


Don't Lose Your Head

by writeyourlettersinthesand



Series: Everyone is Gay and Lives Happily Ever After Cinematic Universe [2]
Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Brian May Whump, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Hurt Brian May, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Panic Attacks, Protective Everyone, Real People as Fictional Characters, References to Depression, Sick Brian May, They all need a vacation, We stan all four members of queen in this household, Whump, and it's a very small scene, brian deserves the world, freddie is band mom, homophobia but nothing violent or anything, i wrote this for myself but hey maybe youll like it too, i wrote this instead of paying for therapy, i'm self projecting so hard you might as well just read my journal, injured brian may, john is a beautiful sarcastic soft bean, roger has lots of feelings, time for even more snuggles, tw blood and injury, tw vomit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-12
Updated: 2020-02-20
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:22:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 25,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22685428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writeyourlettersinthesand/pseuds/writeyourlettersinthesand
Summary: I wrote this instead of paying for therapy (part 2).Set 3ish years after Smiling Dark Eyes - Brian is injured during a rehearsal and the boys all take care of each other.Basically just an excuse to write a ton of hurt/comfort for everybody, because I adore them with my whole heart.Also, somehow even gayer than the first one! :)
Relationships: Brian May/Roger Taylor, Fictional Versions - Relationship, John Deacon & Brian May & Freddie Mercury & Roger Taylor, John Deacon/Freddie Mercury
Series: Everyone is Gay and Lives Happily Ever After Cinematic Universe [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1628833
Comments: 44
Kudos: 120





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Did I do research for this fic, even though I didn't originally intend on sharing it? Yes, quite a bit. Does that mean it's medically accurate? I doubt it. 
> 
> (Also, I've noticed these chapters range from hecking long to SUPER hecking long, but I just broke it up in the places that seemed most natural when I decided to finally post it.)
> 
> Hope you enjoy! Thanks for reading!

“I didn't even know they made stages this big. We don't have enough equipment to fill it up!”

Brian didn't look up from his pedalboard. “Well, that's a good problem to have, isn't it Rog?”

“At least you get to sit down,” Freddie added. “The rest of us will get one hell of a workout.” 

Roger shot him a death glare. “I dare you to play these drums for two hours and tell me it's not a workout.”

Freddie considered that. “Fair enough. What do you think, Deaky?” 

“I think we should shut up about the stage and actually finish rehearsing,” John answered dryly.

They'd been at it for nearly an hour and a half already, and it wasn't even their final soundcheck. Still, they were all having fun. The sheer magnitude of the stadium was thrilling; even without any fans there yet, the energy was palpable. It was like the air was electrically charged. This would be an amazing tour, they could feel it. This would be the biggest they’d ever done, too, and they were all a bit nervous underneath the excitement.

“Hang on, which song are we doing next?” Brian asked, holding the red special up to his ear as he tuned.

“We still haven't decided. Guess we better do that now,” Freddie said, gesturing him over.

Roger watched Brian set his guitar down on its stand and start walking over to the other three where they were huddled by the drum kit. Roger loved when Brian was dressed casually like this, just in his halfway-buttoned shirt and black jeans. There was something about the softness and comfort that Roger couldn't get enough of. He really did look amazing in the outfit Freddie had picked out for him too, though; white flowing jacket trailing majestically behind him, and sleek black pants accentuating his long legs. Roger would have to restrain himself from staring at him for the entire show, and he smiled slightly at the thought of how flustered Brian would be if he'd said any of those things out loud or if he even knew he was thinking them. They were very affectionate, always had been, but still Brian responded to every compliment like it was the first time he'd ever heard it. It was endearing. They'd been together for three years, but apparently some things never changed. 

Roger was interrupted from his musings when he heard an odd, metallic cracking sound coming from above the guitarist. He looked up at the stage lights hanging from the ceiling, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion, and glanced at the taller man, who was wearing a similar perplexed expression. The sound happened again and Brian followed Roger's gaze upward. He realized what was about to happen a second too late and didn't have time to react before one of the lights came crashing down on his head, knocking him to the ground and shattering glass everywhere.

Roger, John, and Freddie could only watch in horror as he collapsed, motionless.

It happened in a split second. All three of them sprinted toward Brian, who was crumpled on the floor, blood starting to pool around his head. Roger couldn't breathe. His brain was running at a million miles an hour, shuffling through every possible scenario, each one more unthinkable than the previous. _Don't be dead, don't be dead, please don't be dead-_

Roger knelt down in front of him and checked for a pulse and breathing. He quickly found both and could have cried with relief. “Freddie, go get help. Find someone, or find a phone. He needs a hospital, _now_.” Roger could hear the urgency in his own voice. Freddie immediately ran off, hands covering his mouth and cheeks already wet with tears. Roger spun around. “Deaky, help me raise him up a little bit; he shouldn't be laying on the floor with open cuts. We can't let his neck move at all, though, ok? It might be injured. Hold his head still.”

John nodded and helped Roger slowly, painstakingly lift Brian into a somewhat seated position. John supported him from the back, pulling off his own jacket and wadding it up to press against Brian's forehead in an attempt to stop the bleeding. Roger put one hand on his face with the other on his opposite shoulder. “Brian, open your eyes.” No response. Roger tapped his cheek softly, careful not to move his head, and tried again. “You have to wake up, Bri, come on.” His eyelids fluttered, but stayed shut. Roger choked back a sob and started to examine his head. It seemed like the only place the blood was coming from was the cut on his forehead from where he'd been hit, and head wounds tended to bleed a lot; that wasn't necessarily a sign of a worse underlying problem. Hopefully. Roger gently felt around Brian’s scalp with shaking hands, checking for more injuries and brushing broken glass out of his hair, until he found a bump from where the side of his head had hit the stage. Brian groaned at the contact and slowly opened his eyes, and Roger and John let out huge sighs of relief. 

Brian looked around sluggishly until his gaze fell on Roger's stricken face, vision swimming in and out of focus. 

Roger tried his best to smile at him. “Brian, hey. That's it, look at me. Eyes on me.”

He blinked hazily. “Rog?”

Roger tried not to panic at the slurring in his voice. “You're alright. We're going to get you to a doctor and you'll be just fine, ok?” His eyes slid shut again and Roger raised his voice. “No, Bri. Don’t go to sleep. You can't go to sleep. _Brian!_ ” 

He painfully dragged his eyes open when Roger lightly slapped him on the cheek again. Roger let out a shuddering breath. John was quickly losing his cool composure, now supporting most of Brian's weight from behind as Roger focused on keeping his attention. 

“Roger, there's so much blood...”

“Keep pressure.” Roger ordered, a stray tear running down his cheek. He shook his head furiously to get rid of it. “What the hell is taking Freddie so long?!” 

John shrugged helplessly, looking a few moments away from bursting into tears himself. The logical part of Roger’s brain knew that Freddie had probably already called for an ambulance and was just waiting so he could tell the medical personnel whatever information they needed and show them where to go, but the frantic, terrified part of his brain worried that help wouldn't get there soon enough. That they hadn't been fast enough. That it was too late. John's wavering voice shook him out of his thoughts.

“We could take him backstage; there's probably a first aid-”

“Do _NOT_ move him!” Roger growled, so harshly that John actually flinched. Roger made a mental note to apologize to him later.

Brian whimpered. “Please don't yell…”

John looked at Roger in fear. He hadn’t been yelling. If anything, he was speaking at a lower volume than he normally did. 

“Sorry, Bri. I promise I won't yell if you stay awake, deal?”

“...hurts...”

Roger felt a sharp twist in his stomach. He looked at the fallen light on the ground next to them and had an incredible desire to kick it across the stage. He'd probably break his foot, but he didn't care. “I know. It’ll be ok, I promise.” It was a horrible thing to promise and Roger knew that, but he couldn't help it. If Brian started to panic, Roger didn't know he could stop himself from losing it entirely. Instead, Brian actually smiled slightly, even as he continued to look impossibly exhausted and confused. 

“Where’s Deaky?”

John rubbed his shoulder. “I'm here.” Brian tried to turn around to look at him, but Roger stopped him.

“Don’t move, Brimi, not yet.”

Brian blinked, dazed. “Fred?”

“He's getting help.” Roger gently caressed his face, hoping to keep him calm, although he seemed far too disoriented to have any kind of proportional reaction to the situation anyway. 

Brian was looking at Roger curiously, as if studying him. “You… You're blurry…”

Roger couldn't tell if it was meant to be a statement or a question, but he just followed his instincts and grabbed his hand to comfort him. “You're hurt, love, but you'll be better soon. Try to relax.”

Brian made a strangled gasping sound. “Roger-”

“What? What's wrong?” 

Brian groaned weakly. “Sick...”

Roger paled. “Fuck, fuck. Lean him forward, Deaky, quickly.”

“But you said-”

“Deaks, he's going to puke. If we don't move him he'll choke.” John's eyes widened and he gently leaned forward with his arms around Brian to hold him upright. Brian shuddered violently as he retched, but nothing came up. Roger held his hair back just in case and steadied his head until he was done dry heaving, and he grimaced, beginning to sweat.

“S-Sorry.”

John rubbed his back. “Don't apologize, mate. You're alright.”

Brian slumped forward, nearly bringing a startled John with him, but Roger quickly moved in front of him to catch him. “Brian?!”

He didn't respond at first. John's jacket had slipped out of his hand, and he moved behind Roger to press it to Brian's head again. John looked at Roger with dread in his eyes, acutely aware of the amount of blood Brian had already lost. He didn't need Roger's medical knowledge to understand that it was too much. Roger was in his own little world, however, with 100% of his attention on Brian. Brian’s eyelids fluttered, and he couldn't seem to keep them open all the way, but he finally spoke again. 

“I can’t, I- I'm so tired…” His voice was barely audible. John felt a chill run down his spine at the words.

“No, no, no, Bri, don't do this, please,” Roger begged. 

Brian looked up at him with glassy, unfocused eyes for a long moment before finally whispering, “I'm sorry.” 

Roger shook his head, like he could somehow stop the inevitable, but Brian’s eyes fell shut and the rest of his weight dropped on Roger. 

Roger could have screamed. He buried his face in Brian’s neck, careful not to move him at all, although he was basically hugging him already anyway. He made out Freddie's frantic voice behind him and suddenly felt someone trying to move him away from Brian. He panicked, tightening his grip. “No, no-”

He felt Freddie's warm hand on his arm. “Don't fight them, honey. They’ll help.” 

Roger let himself be pulled back and the paramedics wasted no time in stabilizing Brian’s head and neck and loading him onto a stretcher, bandaging his head as they moved. He was completely still as they quickly rolled him out to the ambulance that Freddie had called. John jumped in with them, because only he and Roger had been with Brian the whole time and Roger was in no state to give calm explanations of what had happened. 

As Roger watched them drive off, he could practically feel the adrenaline draining out of his body. He stumbled back and Freddie grabbed him and pulled him into a tight hug. Roger wept into his shoulder.

“He’ll be fine, Roggie, I'm sure of it,” Freddie said, crack in his voice betraying the confidence of the words. “Let's call a cab and follow them.”

Roger tried to catch his breath. “I'll drive, it'll be faster.”

Freddie shook his head. “No, I don't think that's a good idea-”

_“Freddie.”_

Something in his voice was non-negotiable, and Freddie nodded and followed him to his car. Roger broke a few traffic laws on the way there, but Freddie thought it was forgivable under the circumstances. Thankfully the nearest hospital wasn’t too far away. 

They burst into the emergency room and saw John sitting miserably on one of the chairs in the blessedly empty waiting area. He jumped up when he saw them. 

“He didn't wake up. They took him away; I couldn't follow them. I don't know what's going on. They wouldn't tell me anything.” 

He was crying softly, and Freddie moved to embrace him. Roger looked around the room, completely in shock as the reality of the situation hit him again and again. It was absurd. Like a dream. After a minute he stumbled into the nearest chair, covered his face with his hands, and sobbed. Freddie and John ran over and sat on either side of him, trying to calm him (and themselves) down.

“I found Miami backstage. He'll take care of everything.” Freddie offered, trying to come up with something, anything that could help. Roger nodded. He appreciated what Freddie was trying to do, but there was nothing they could say to console him in this. Freddie seemed to realize that, and just rubbed his arm instead of speaking more. After a while, Freddie gently guided Roger and John to the bathroom and helped clean the blood off of their hands, muttering encouragements the entire time. His own eyes were bright with tears and John didn't let go of him even once they returned to their spots in the waiting room.

Roger didn't know how long they sat there like that before a doctor started walking toward them. “You're here for Brian May?” 

They all jumped up and looked at her expectantly.

“I understand that the bleeding alarmed you, but the wound on his head will heal quickly with stitches. You were smart to apply pressure; that helped to keep the blood loss down to a manageable level. It may have saved his life.” 

Roger felt like he could have passed out right then, but thankfully Freddie and John each grabbed one of his arms to steady him. Roger tried to pull himself together and nodded at the doctor to continue. 

“He’s had a transfusion to replace what he lost, and there were no complications with that. He does have a severe concussion, however, and I won't lie to you; grade three concussions can be extremely dangerous. He's lucky it wasn't worse. We've given him some pain medication and anti-nausea medication, but we won't know more about his condition until he wakes up.”

Roger stared at her with wide eyes. “Will he be ok?”

She smiled. “He should make a full recovery. There’s no evidence of brain damage or internal bleeding. Concussions as bad as his can be a bit of an ordeal to recover from; weeks, at least, but he'll recover. When he's able, we’ll have some conversations about what to expect.”

They stood silently for a minute, overcome with shock and relief. She waited patiently, recognizing how distraught they were.

“He hasn't woken up at all?” John finally asked.

“No, but that's not abnormal for this kind of injury. He needs rest, and plenty of it. It hasn’t been long enough that you should be worried.”

Roger took a deep breath and scrubbed his face as Freddie and John hugged. “Can we see him?” 

“If you'd like, but there's no way to know when he'll wake up. When he does, be might not be very lucid, either, since he-” They all stared at her eagerly and she chuckled good-naturedly. “Follow me.”

She lead them to Brian's room but stopped at the door. “I don't want the oxygen mask to scare you. His breathing has returned to normal; it's only a precaution. Mr. Deacon made sure the first responders were aware of his medical history.”

Roger frowned. “The apnea has been under control for years, though, ever since he started medication.”

She smiled. “I understand, but the brain is incredibly sensitive. We're just making sure. The mask can be removed as soon as he wakes up, if he doesn't need it.”

Roger swallowed nervously and nodded. The doctor gave them one last smile and warned them not to be too loud, and then disappeared down the hallway. Roger turned the doorknob slowly and opened the door as quietly as he could. He almost started crying again when he saw Brian, even though he'd known exactly what to expect. Brian had a large white bandage on the left side of his forehead and an I.V. coming out of his right arm. Roger had been explicitly warned about the mask, but it still somehow caught him off guard. It made him look so… fragile. He was too pale and there were already bruises peeking out from the sides of the bandage, but he looked peaceful. Roger could almost pretend he was just asleep. He pulled a chair up to the right side of the bed and grabbed Brian's limp hand, and Freddie and John made their way over to the other side. None of them spoke for a while; they were too overwhelmed. 

Eventually Freddie broke the silence. “It's a good thing that light hit him from the front instead of the back. Imagine how pissed he'd be if they had to shave his head.”

Roger giggled. “We'd never hear the end of it.” He gently played with a curl. “Thank God he'd already set Red down, too.”

“Oh, yes. He'd be more worried about her injuries than his own,” Freddie agreed. “If it had to happen, I'm glad it was during rehearsal and not an actual show. Poor dear would be so embarrassed, and the fans would be traumatized for life.”

Roger huffed out another laugh. “It's much better that we're the only ones who are traumatized for life.” 

Freddie chuckled softly, gazing at Brian again. “I hope he doesn't blame himself for any missed shows.”

Roger looked at him like he was crazy. “How could this possibly be his fault?!”

Freddie raised up his hands defensively. “Hey, don't ask me! You know he'll say some shit about how he didn't move fast enough or something. Better yet, he’ll try to convince us that his current condition isn't a good enough reason to cancel.”

Roger winced. “God, don't call it a condition. That's so… medical.”

“Current… fucked-up-ness?”

Roger laughed. “Better.”

Freddie sighed fondly. “Anyway, you know how he is.”

Roger thought about it for a minute. “You're right. He's an idiot.”

Freddie only hummed in response, smirking at Roger with an amused glint in his eye.

Roger stared at Brian, wishing he didn't know anything about concussions. Especially grade three concussions. He was determined not to cry again, but it seemed his body had different ideas. 

“Darling, what's wrong?” 

Roger sniffed. “The doctor said grade three.”

“What?” Freddie asked, looking at Roger with concern.

“The concussion; it's a grade three concussion.”

“I take it you know a lot more about that than I do?” Freddie probed patiently.

Roger cleared his throat. “They're usually not fatal-” He regretted his words immediately when he saw the expressions on Freddie and John's faces, and quickly added, “The doctor said there's no brain damage. He must have had an MRI already. Besides, she said he’ll make a full recovery. She wouldn't say that unless she was sure.” 

Freddie exhaled. “Then why did you give me a heart attack like that?!”

Roger wiped his eyes. “It's just… He could have-”

“Don't.” Freddie cut in, sternly. “Don't talk that way.” 

Roger looked down. “Sorry.”

Freddie's eyes softened. “I'm not upset, we’re all just… shaken, I suppose.” 

John had been silent for a long time, and Roger glanced at him a little guiltily. “Hey, Deak, I'm sorry I snapped at you earlier, I was just-”

John waved him off. “Please, you didn't do anything wrong; don't worry. Besides, that's the least of my worries right now.”

Roger sighed, relieved, though he didn't miss Freddie's hand tightening protectively on John's arm. He cleared his throat and shifted his attention back to the younger man. “What's the... most of your worries?”

“Besides the obvious? Probably that you're going to track down whoever is responsible for the broken lighting rig and murder them in cold blood.”

Freddie scoffed. “Don’t be ridiculous; no one is responsible. It was an accident.”

Roger shrugged. “I'll still kill them.”

“I know, dear. I will too.”

“I guess I could hide the body,” John offered, making the other two laugh. 

“Wait, we have to do it in secret?” Roger asked.

“Of course we do, silly,” Freddie said, “You can't just kill people!” 

“I think in this case it's justified.”

John half smiled. “A hospital is not the right place to have a discussion about when murder is and is not justified.” 

Freddie laid his head on John's shoulder. “What's the right place, then?”

“I dunno. Court?” 

Roger snorted. “This would have been a great conversation for him to wake up to.”

Freddie and John frowned at Brian anxiously, and Roger’s smile fell.

“Sorry, I didn't mean to kill the mood…”

Freddie smiled a little sadly. “It's alright.”

Roger turned to John. “When was his breathing not normal?”

“What?”

“The doctor said his breathing _returned_ to normal. Was it not normal in the ambulance?” 

John hesitated, clearly not wanting to revisit that memory. Probably also wanting to avoid making Roger more panicked than he already was. “...It was slow. Weak.”

Roger felt another wave of dread in his stomach. “You should have told me!” 

John frowned. “What good would that have done?”

Roger felt himself getting worked up but he couldn't help it. “How could you not tell me everything?! I should have known that! I should've been in there with him, I should have-”

“Roger, stop.” Freddie's voice was kind as always, but it had a warning edge to it. “I know you're scared, but don't take your anger out on us. Don't do that.” 

Roger deflated. “Sorry, I'm sorry.” He stared at Brian, ironically wanting comfort only from him.

John slowly walked around to Roger's side of the bed and pulled him into a tight hug. “He's ok.”

Roger tensed. “But-”

“No, Rog, but nothing. Listen to me, _he's_ _ok_.”

Roger felt any anger drain out of him, leaving just fear and sadness in its place. He squeezed his arms around John gratefully. John waited for him to pull away before returning to his seat next to Freddie.

Freddie rested a hand on John's back and smiled. “We should get some rest.”

“Someone has to be here when he wakes up,” Roger protested. 

“I didn't mean we should leave, Rog. We can take turns sleeping in here.” 

“Oh. Well, I'm staying up first. You two go ahead.” 

Freddie and John pulled some chairs together and snuggled up to each other, falling asleep quickly. They were all exhausted; none of them had really processed the horrible experience they'd just been through. Not to mention they didn't really know how long they’d been there and it had already been a tiring day.

Roger played with Brian's hand and gently pushed stray curls out of his face. He silently willed those beautiful hazel eyes to open, knowing he was being impatient. It was probably too early. Still, you never know. He hummed quietly, not sure if Brian could hear him at all. It was incredibly unnerving to see him so still… even when he was asleep he was usually restless; tossing and turning with his wild dreams and insomnia. Roger knew this uninterrupted rest was essential for Brian to heal, but the stillness was so unlike him that Roger wanted him to wake up anyway. Roger sang to him softly for almost an hour, leaning close to his head to avoid waking the others, until he eventually fell asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did some research about concussions and blood loss and such, but I will say that I took some creative liberties in how hospitals function in order to move the plot forward. Or maybe hospitals were just really laid back in the seventies; I don't know. 
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading!

Brian woke up slowly. He looked around in confusion, wincing at the pain that even this slight movement caused. No matter how much he blinked, he couldn't clear the blurring at the edges of his vision, so he tried to just ignore it. It took him a moment to remember why in the world he would be in a hospital bed. The oxygen mask on his face confused him, too, especially since his breathing seemed fine. He felt terrible, sure, but he could breathe. Perhaps it was there in case his sleep apnea acted up again. That would make sense. Someone would have told the doctors about that. He surveyed the room to find Freddie and Deaky curled up together, asleep, and he smiled. On his other side, Roger was also asleep with his head on Brian's bed and their fingers intertwined. He tried to piece together what had happened. He remembered the light falling, but it was fuzzy and disorienting after that. He supposed it must be pretty bad if he was in the hospital, and he automatically looked at the other three again, knowing how worried they must be. He almost didn't want to wake them up, but he knew they would want him to. Besides, he wanted to see them. He was anxious and in pain and he wanted them with him. 

“Rog?”

Brian's voice was barely above a whisper, not to mention muffled by the mask, but Roger jerked up immediately. So many emotions flashed across his face that Brian couldn't decipher them quickly enough to react. 

“Brian! You’re awake!” He gestured to the mask. “Want me to take this off?” Brian made an affirmative noise, and Roger removed it and set it to the side. Brian was grateful to be free of it, but he couldn't get a word out before Roger spoke again. “Are you alright? Do you need anything? Dammit, I fell asleep; I didn't want you to be alone when you woke up-”

“Roger.”

“Right, sorry, what can I do?” 

Roger looked so worried that Brian wanted to get up and hug him, but he wasn't too keen to find out how much that extent of movement would hurt. Honestly he wasn't sure if he was even physically capable of doing it. Instead he just squeezed his hand. “I'm ok.” 

Roger chewed on his lip. “I really wanted to be there when you woke up.”

“You are,” Brian replied, smiling softly. “I'm glad you're here.”

Roger took a deep breath, thrilled that Brian was both awake and coherent. He was clearly exhausted and in pain, but he was talking normally, and that alone relieved Roger so much that he nearly laughed out loud. “Of course, where else would I be?” 

Brian’s smile brightened a little more. 

“How do you feel?” 

Brian didn't really want to give him an honest answer, but figured he owed him that much. “Like shit,” he admitted. 

Roger frowned. “Pain?”

Brian shrugged, regretting the motion immediately and wincing. “Mostly. It hurts like hell, but I'm really tired and dizzy, too.”

“You swear a little more when you're concussed.”

Brian laughed. “Concussed? That explains why I feel so… odd. How long was I out?”

“I honestly have no idea. It was such a fucking blur, but it's been a long time.” Brian's eyes widened, and Roger amended, “Hours, I mean. Not like days or anything.”

“Oh, good.”

“You lost a lot of blood; they had to do a transfusion. That's probably making you dizzy, too.” Roger’s hands started to tremble as he spoke, and Brian could feel it. 

“Hey.”

Roger squeezed his eyes shut, trying not to break down again. Brian was awake. He really needed to just focus on that. But what if he hadn’t woken up? What would have happened? Even now, how was Roger ever supposed to get that horrific scene out of his mind? He was already replaying it over and over, regardless of his attempts to block it out. All the blood, the way he'd seemed barely aware of what was going on around him, his apology before falling completely limp into Roger’s arms… It was too much. And what if-

“Rog.”

He looked at Brian again, meeting his concerned gaze. 

“Are you ok?” 

Roger rolled his eyes. “Oh my God.”

Brian looked at him in bewilderment. “What?”

Roger did laugh this time. “Only you, Brian.” Brian continued staring at him with that adorably confused expression, but Roger didn't explain. “No, Bri, I guess I’m not. That was the scariest damn thing I've ever seen in my life.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Roger smiled. Brian was unbelievable. “No, not yet. You need to rest. We’ll talk about it later; all of us. Are you ok though? Really? I'm much more worried about that.”

Brian squeezed his hand again. “I… I've definitely been better.” 

Roger smiled sympathetically and leaned in to kiss him on the cheek. “Soon enough you'll be right as rain.”

Freddie began to stir, and jumped up when he saw Brian, startling poor John half to death. They both ran over to the bed. “Darling, you’re awake! We've missed you!” Freddie beamed at him.

John looked him up and down. “How are you feeling?” 

“Like a beam of light rained down from the heavens, except it was made of metal and it hit me in the face.” 

Freddie was unable to contain his excitement that Brian was finally conscious, and he giggled. “Wow, what a coincidence!”

“You remember, then?” John asked, relief evident on his face. 

Brian shrugged weakly. “Some of it.”

John nodded. “I'm going to find a nurse.” When Brian opened his mouth to protest, John said, “This is the first you've woken in hours. They'll want to know that.” He smiled warmly and walked out into the hall. Roger internally cursed himself for not thinking of that first.

John quickly came back with the first nurse he ran into, and she smiled at them. “Mr. May, glad to see you're awake! How’s the pain?” 

“I wouldn't mind more of whatever drugs you've been pumping me up with,” Brian answered honestly.

She smiled again. “I'm going to examine you first; make sure everything is where we want it to be.” She started to look him over, checking his vitals and the bandage and looking at his eyes. “Your pupils are still very dilated, but that's to be expected. Follow my finger with your eyes if you can, ok?” Brian tried, but struggled to keep them focused. He frowned in frustration. “It's ok, it'll take time. Your MRI didn't show any fractures or internal bleeding, but your concussion will take awhile to heal. You need a lot of rest, and fluids.” Brian winced before she continued, “If you're too nauseated to drink yet, that's ok. We’ve been giving you fluids through the I.V. since you got here. You'll need to be eating and drinking before you can be discharged, though. Mr. Deacon thinks you're doing well, cognitively speaking. Would you agree?” Brian nodded. “Good. That's a great sign. Now that you've woken up, you should have a concussion check every few hours. The nurses can do it, if you'd like, or your friends if you would prefer that. It doesn't look like they have any plans to leave, and I'm sure they're willing.” 

They all nodded passionately and she smiled again.

“I'm going to give you some more pain medication now, ok? Someone will stop by tomorrow morning to check up on you again, and replace the I.V. if you can't eat or drink yet.”

Freddie spoke up suddenly. “Speaking of, what time is it?” 

“Almost 11:30.” They all stared at her and she seemed to sense their unspoken question. “You've been here since 4:00.” 

Brian's jaw dropped. “Wow.” 

“All that rest was good for you. Waking up for the concussion checks won't be fun, but hang in there. Press the call button if you need anything, ok?” She turned to the other three. “There's a clock on his monitor here, and another in the hallway.”

They all nodded and thanked her.

She administered the medication before removing the needle from his arm and replacing it with a bandage. After she left, John was finally able to relax a little bit. “Is that helping?”

Brian hummed, medication already starting to dull his senses. 

Freddie smiled at him in amusement. “His pupils really are enormous.”

Brian laughed tiredly. 

“You know, they say your pupils dilate when you see someone attractive,” Roger added. 

Brian just continued looking at him. “Ah, that explains it.” 

Roger blushed. “Shut up.” 

A playful smile tugged at Brian's lips as his eyelids started to droop closed. “Think I'm gonna sleep now.” Freddie grabbed his hand to squeeze it.

“We’ll be here when you wake up,” John promised. 

Roger laid his head on the edge of the bed again, stroking Brian's hand with his thumb. He smiled when he felt Brian's other hand in his hair. It was soothing, for both of them. 

“Want to come up here?” Brian asked softly. 

Roger looked up, surprised. “I don't want to hurt you…” 

“You won't. You don't have to, though. I won't be offended. It’s not a very big bed.”

Roger decided to give in, against his better judgement. He longed for the closeness, and he knew Brian did too. There was no denying that they would both sleep better; not that Roger intended to do much sleeping. “Alright, if you're sure.” 

Brian's eyes lit up and he shifted over to the side, trying not to show pain on his face. Roger climbed onto the bed so absurdly slowly that Freddie and John started laughing at him. He ignored them and curled up to Brian as gently as he possibly could, his every movement tentative; hesitant.

“You're not going to hurt me, Rog. As long as you don't punch me in the head, I think I'll be fine.”

“Well, there go my evening plans.” 

Brian laughed. “Are you sure this is comfortable enough?”

“More comfortable than that plastic chair? I'm going to go with yes.”

Brian sighed happily. “Ok. Thank you.” 

Roger smiled. “I expect the same treatment when I hurt myself under stupid circumstances.”

“Of course, and I fully expect that to happen.” 

Roger grinned, and John scowled. “Could you not flirt until after we're asleep?”

“How was that flirting?” Roger asked.

John shrugged. “I don't know. Anything can be with you two. Be respectful; there's children in here.”

Brian raised an eyebrow. “You might be the youngest but you're hardly a child, Deaks.”

“Oh, no, I meant Freddie.” 

Freddie snorted. “Wow.”

Roger rolled his eyes. “Right, and _we_ have a flirting problem.”

Brian’s eyelids were starting to droop again. “As much as I'm enjoying your company-” 

“Go to sleep, Bri.” John said, and Brian smiled tiredly. 

Roger snuggled up to his chest, whispering, “Thanks for letting me lay with you. You'll tell me if anything hurts, right?” Brian hummed, eyes closed. It was only a few minutes before Roger could tell he was asleep. 

“Do you feel better now, Roger?” Freddie asked quietly. 

“Much better, yeah. He seems like himself. It's like the nurse said; he seems fine mentally and that's a really, really good sign.”

“See, I told you!” Freddie smiled smugly.

Despite all his grandeur, Roger could tell that Freddie was just as relieved as he was.

“Only one of us should sleep at a time. Just in case.” John said, glancing at the clock. 

“I'm way too wound up to sleep.” Freddie replied, and Roger nodded in agreement.

John laughed, settling back into his chair. “Well, that works too.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize that this chapter is so insanely long, but, in my defense, it used to be much longer.
> 
> You're about to realize how obsessed I am with dialogue, if you haven't already!

Brian looked like the picture of misery when Roger woke him up two hours later; pale and sluggish and shaking slightly. “Mm… ten more minutes, please,” he groaned, grimacing. Roger felt a pang of sympathy. 

“Just wake up for a little bit, and then you can have 120 more minutes,” John coaxed.

That convinced Brian to open his eyes, although the pain almost made him regret it. Freddie grinned at him. “Hello there, sleeping beauty. How are we feeling?”

“M’ok.” 

Roger helped him sit up a little bit, taking most of his weight. He knew Brian must be incredibly dizzy still and didn't want him to move any more than necessary. “We just have to ask you a few questions. Then you can sleep.”

Brian nodded, smiling softly. 

Freddie went first. “What's your full name?”

“Brian Harold May.”

“What's six times five?” John asked next.

“Thirty.” 

Freddie was ready with his follow-up. “What’s the capital of Argentina?”

“Buenos Aires.” Brian furrowed his eyebrows. “Wait, would I not have passed the test if I didn't know that?” 

Freddie laughed. “I didn't even know the answer. I'm taking your word for it.”

“I'd like the record to show that I'm rolling my eyes in spirit, because actually doing it would probably hurt.” 

John chuckled. “What's your job?”

“Keeping Roger from starting anything on fire.” 

He laughed. “Close enough.”

“Ooh, I have one!” Roger jumped in. “Who’s the best drummer in the world?”

Brian pretended to think about it. “John Bonham.” John snorted and Freddie burst out laughing. 

Roger tried to look serious. “Remember earlier when I didn't want to hurt you?”

“Now you do?” 

“Correct.”

Brian grinned, kissing him on the forehead. “I'm joking. Bonham is probably second, though.”

“Whatever.”

Brian suddenly stiffened, grabbing Roger’s arm and somehow looking even paler.

“What's wrong? Do we need to get someone?” Roger asked, a bit frantically.

“No, sorry, I just… The room is spinning.” He squeezed his eyes shut when another wave of dizziness hit. “Oh, god… can I lay back down?”

“Of course, let me help you.” Roger gently lowered him back onto his pillow. “Better?”

“Yeah. Thanks.” He didn't loosen his white-knuckle grip until Roger laid down next to him, wrapping his arms around him to help ground him. 

Freddie looked nervous. “You sure you're ok?”

Brian opened his eyes and smiled at him, although it came across as more of a wince. “Yes. Sorry for worrying you.” 

“Nonsense! You just focus on getting some rest and feeling better, dear. You can go back to sleep now.” 

His eyes were already closed by the time Freddie finished talking. Roger pulled him a little closer, and a few minutes later he was asleep. 

John glanced at Roger. “That was normal, right?”

“Oh, yeah. He'll have that for a while.” 

John didn't look very reassured.

“He’ll be alright, Deaky, I promise.” Roger continued. 

“I know, I just… Y’know. It's horrible when your family is suffering.”

Freddie hugged him. “It's awful. But he'll be better soon. And we’re all here.”

“We're all here.” Roger echoed. “Everything will be fine.”

John smiled. “You know, the nurse is probably going to tell you not to stay in the bed with him.” 

“She can pry this bed out of my cold, dead hands.” 

John stared at him blankly for a minute. “Do you ever think before you speak?”

“No. People do that? I thought that was just a myth.”

John laughed. “That explains so much.”

Freddie yawned. “Who's sleeping first?”

“You go ahead,” Roger immediately replied.

“No, dear, I think you should. Look at you, all cuddled up already. Besides, if you don't take care of yourself then you won't be able to take care of him.”

Roger considered it. “Fine, but wake me in an hour, ok?”

“We will.”

Roger relaxed into the bed, finally letting himself focus on how exhausted he was. He was asleep in no time. 

John sighed contentedly. They sat in comfortable silence for ten or fifteen minutes until Freddie asked, “How are you doing, darling?”

“Oh, I'm fine. Just tired. What about you?”

Freddie shrugged. “I'm alright, I think. I wouldn't mind a shower.”

John smiled. “Maybe later on we can take turns going home for a bit?”

Freddie nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, that'll be nice. How long's it been since you've eaten?”

John thought for a minute. “Lunch, I suppose.”

Freddie frowned. “Well, that's no good. I'm going to see if they have a vending machine. I'll bring something for Rog as well.”

John smiled and watched him go. He settled back in his chair, trying to relax a bit, and resisted the strong temptation to stare at the clock.

Brian realized that Roger was having a nightmare before John did. He could feel Roger shaking where he was pressed up to his chest, and it was enough to wake him up. It was only when Roger started to whimper that John noticed anything. He walked up to the bed cautiously, lips parting in surprise when he saw that Brian was awake.

“Alright, Bri?” John whispered, looking back and forth between them with concern.

“He’s having a nightmare, I think,” Brian answered softly as he gently wiped a few tears from Roger's face. “I'm going to wake him up.”

John looked conflicted. “Do you want privacy? Fred is getting food. I could go find him. I don't want to leave you alone, though...”

Brian smiled at him. “I’m fine, Deaky. Roger will be here.”

“Ok, I'll see you in a bit.”

Brian nodded, only looking up for a fraction of a second before returning his attention to Roger as John slipped out the door.

“Rog?” Brian whispered, not wanting to startle him. He didn't stir. Brian sighed and put a hand on his face, stroking it with his thumb. “Roger.” His eyelids started to flutter. Brian raised his voice a bit. “Time to wake up, love.” It wasn't until he reached out for his shoulder and gently shook him that Roger actually did. 

He gasped, clearly terrified and disoriented. He looked shocked to see him, and Brian dreaded to think how bad the dream must have been. Roger's eyes flashed with horror and dread and confusion before finally settling, tentatively, on relief.

 _“Brian.”_ It came out in a rush of breath as he let out a choked sob.

Brian’s heart clenched. “It's ok, Rog. Everything is ok. I'm here.” He whispered.

Roger sucked in a breath. “Did I wake you? Fuck, sorry, you need-”

“Shh, none of that. Is there anything I can do?”

Roger looked at him long and hard, and then promptly burst into tears. Brian's eyes widened and he pulled Roger as close to him as he possibly could, squeezing his arms around him.

“It's alright, sweetheart. Let it out.”

“Sorry, I'm sorry-”

“Roger, look at me.”

Roger pulled away a little bit to meet his gaze. Brian smiled at him and pressed a kiss to his head. “You have nothing to apologize for. Nothing.”

“You're the one who's... I shouldn't… I'm being selfish.” Roger hiccuped, another tear running down his face. Brian gently wiped it away.

“You're not, Rog. I want to know how you’re doing. You don't have to hide anything from me. God, I can't even imagine what I’d feel like if it’d been you.”

Roger continued to tremble. “It was so awful. I thought you were… You were bleeding so much, and it was like you were looking at me, but you couldn't really see me. You were trying so hard to stay awake, you were being so sweet, but then… I couldn't do anything. You could have fucking _died!_ ” 

Roger took a deep breath, trying to calm down, and Brian said nothing, letting him gather his thoughts. 

“I keep wanting to be mad at someone, but who am I supposed to be mad at? You? Whoever installed those lights? If I had someone to blame, maybe I could stop being so useless.”

Brian grabbed his shoulder, eyes burning intensely. “You're not useless. Don't say that, I don't know what I would do if you weren't here. You make me feel safe... I just want to help you like you always help me.”

Roger inhaled sharply. “I make you feel safe?”

“Of course! Of course you do; more than anyone. It's so obvious to me… I thought you knew. I'm sorry if I've never-”

Roger kissed him, so suddenly that Brian had to fight back a noise of surprise, but he quickly recovered and returned it. The kiss was soft, delicate; like Roger was afraid he was going to break him. When he pulled away, Brian was relieved to see that he wasn't crying anymore. He traced a finger down the side of Brian's face, smiling at him for the first time since he'd woken up. “I'm so glad you're ok.” Brian took a deep breath and laid his forehead against Roger's, and Roger laced their fingers together. “I love you.”

Brian sighed happily. “I love you too. So much.”

Roger leaned in to kiss him again, but stopped suddenly and looked up in confusion. “Wait, where are Freddie and Deaky?” 

“They're getting food.”

“They just left you in here? When I was asleep?” Roger asked incredulously.

“Don't worry, Rog. Deaky knew I was going to wake you up. He thought we might want to be alone.” Roger raised an eyebrow and Brian laughed. “Not like that!”

“They've been gone awhile, don't you think?”

“I suppose, yeah. They're probably waiting outside the door for you to tell them to come back in.” 

Roger rolled his eyes. “Well, I guess I better find out.” He slowly climbed off the bed, cursing himself when the movement made Brian wince slightly. “You ok?”

“Fine, I promise.”

Roger walked to the door, where, sure enough, Freddie and John were sitting against the wall on the other side. Freddie beamed when he opened the door. “We come bearing gifts!”

Roger didn't realize how hungry he was until he actually saw the goodies that Freddie and John brought back. John looked at him with concern. “How's it going in there?”

Roger smiled. “We're good. Come back in.”

Freddie jumped up excitedly and followed him inside, closely followed by John. Brian's face lit up when he saw them. 

“Brian, my dear,” Freddie sang softly, “Would you like a bite to eat?”

Brian grimaced at the thought. “Thanks, Fred, but they already fed me, remember?” He gestured to the bandage on his arm where the needle had been.

“Just as well. These vending machine sandwiches look like shit anyway.”

Roger dug through the plastic bag they'd brought back. “Why is there so much candy in here?”

“Because,” Freddie said, “Sweets make you feel better. Everyone knows that.”

Roger shrugged, grabbed one of the sandwiches, and walked back over to Brian. The second he unwrapped it and Brian caught a whiff of meat, his stomach churned. “Rog, could move back a little?”

Roger looked confused and a little hurt. “What's wrong?” 

Brian winced, turning his head to the side as more nausea rolled through his stomach. Roger’s eyes widened in understanding and he backed up immediately. “Oh shit, sorry! Do you need a bucket?”

Brian took a deep breath, stomach settling somewhat. “I don't think so. I can't smell it anymore.” 

Freddie dug around in the bag, pulling out a bottle of mouthwash. “I got this, in case you need to throw up again.”

Brian looked confused. “Again?”

Freddie's eyebrows furrowed and he looked at John and Roger. “Didn't he? You know… right after? I thought I heard it.”

Roger shook his head. “He certainly tried his best, but nothing happened.”

“And then he apologized for _not_ puking, like an idiot.” John added. 

Brian chuckled. “Did I?”

John smiled at him fondly. Brian looked at Roger, internally thanking God that he hadn’t been sick before Roger kissed him. As if reading his mind, Roger said, “Even if you had, the doctors would have cleaned your mouth. I think they did anyway, because they didn't know when you'd wake up. You tasted minty.” Brian blushed deeply and it took Roger a minute to realize what he'd said.

John nearly choked on his sandwich and Freddie had to clap him on the back before he could speak again. “What the hell, Roger?” 

Freddie laughed, covering his mouth with his hands.

“Leave me alone, Deacon. You wouldn't believe the day I've had.”

John rolled his eyes. “It’s morning.”

“Fine, you wouldn't believe the two days I've had. I think I should be able to say whatever the fuck I want.” 

John laughed. “God help us.” 

Freddie chewed his sandwich thoughtfully. “Brian, do you- Brian?”

Roger followed Freddie's gaze to see that Brian was out cold again. He couldn't quell the slight panic building up in his stomach and jumped up to make sure he was breathing properly. His breathing was steady and rhythmic, and Roger relaxed.

“...Roger?” John asked, cautiously. 

“He doesn't usually fall asleep that fast.”

“You seem quite a bit more worried than the doctors do, I can tell you that,” Freddie added gently.

“What do they know?!”

“Louder, Rog, I don't think they could hear you on the third floor.”

Roger sighed. “Sorry. I'm just on edge. I don't exactly have great memories from being in hospitals with him.”

Freddie smiled sympathetically, but didn't say anything.

“How long was I asleep before?” Roger asked.

John shrugged. “I dunno, 20 minutes? Go ahead and get some more rest; we’ll wake you in an hour.” 

Roger moved to climb back onto to Brian's bed, but John reached out a hand to stop him. “I really don't think-”

“He'll sleep better,” Roger cut in stubbornly.

Freddie smirked. “Cocky, I like it.”

“I’m not being cocky, Freddie, it's true.”

John frowned. “Still, the nurse…”

“The worst thing that can happen is she tells me to leave, right?” Roger reasoned. 

“I know, but it just doesn't seem like a good idea.”

“Please, John,” Roger pleaded.

Both John and Freddie looked up in surprise that Roger used his real name, and even more at the soft, almost desperate tone of his voice. They glanced at each other and then back to Roger. Finally, John nodded. 

“Thank you.” Roger climbed onto the bed, just as gently as the first time, and curled into his side. Brian instinctively leaned into the warmth like he always did. Freddie was a bit overwhelmed by how adorable the little scene was, especially when Roger tucked himself under Brian’s arm and eventually started to snore softly. God, he wished he had a camera.

Freddie and John sat quietly, finding comfort in each other's presence and chatting softly for about forty five minutes. John stopped talking for a while, and Freddie didn't push him. He figured he needed the space.

“Do you think he’s ok?” John asked suddenly, voice small.

Freddie looked over at him. He looked deeply tired, and perhaps more stressed than he’d ever seen him. He put his arm around him. “No, but he will be.”

“I meant Roger.” 

Freddie smiled and leaned in to kiss him on the cheek. “I know. He'll be ok, eventually. I don't know if he'll ever be able to shake that image, though. Hell, I don't know if any of us will. It seems so obvious, doesn't it? That there would be equipment malfunctions. That many moving parts, I suppose something eventually has to go wrong. I never really thought about it until now.”

John looked at the floor, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. “They kept asking me questions in the ambulance. I didn't know how to answer any of them. He didn't move at all, no matter what they did. They put the oxygen mask on him and kept injecting him with things… You should have seen them when we got to the hospital. They were so frantic. I asked if he would be ok, and they didn't even know. They couldn't tell me. I know me and him like to bug each other, but he's my brother and I thought-” John inhaled sharply, cutting himself off.

Freddie stared at him worriedly. “Darling?”

“Oh my God, Freddie, I thought he was going to die.” A single tear ran down his face, and Freddie pulled him into a hug.

“Oh, baby-”

“You know what his last words would have been?” 

Freddie stiffened. He didn't really want to know, but he had a feeling John needed to talk about it, so he didn't stop him.

“I'm sorry.”

“It's alright, dear, you can tell me.”

“No, that's the last thing he said. ‘I'm sorry’.”

Freddie smiled despite everything. “That's very Brian.”

John let out a wet laugh. “Yeah, I suppose so.” His face fell again. “Freddie, the three of you mean everything to me. We can annoy each other all day long, but if anything ever happened to any of you…” 

“It won't.” Freddie said, with more conviction than he felt. 

“You can't promise that,” John replied. 

“I can do whatever the fuck I want. I'm Freddie Mercury.”

John laughed. “You do know how to cheer me up, I'll give you that.” 

Freddie smiled. “Good.”

“What about you, then?”

Freddie blinked. “What _about_ me?”

“You're spending all of your time supporting Roger and me. What do you need?”

Freddie shrugged. “I need to help. If I can't help Brian, I need to help you two.” 

John grabbed his hand. “Fred, talk to me.” 

“I'm fine, my sweet, really.” Freddie insisted. 

John frowned. “Look at me?”

Freddie obeyed, shrinking a little under John's stare. He always could read him like a book. 

“Freddie, you can tell me anything, it's ok.” 

He stared into John's kind, knowing eyes, and his confidence started to crumble a little bit. “I told him to stand there, remember? He was hanging back by the drums too much; I told him to stand further up on the stage so the audience would be able to see him better.”

John's jaw dropped. “You can't possibly think-”

Freddie cut him off, breathing speeding up a little. “It's ridiculous, I know.

John sighed. “It's not ridiculous. But it's not your fault. We could do that all day; a million circumstances led up to this happening. It might not have happened if I hadn't been running late, either. Or if we'd rehearsed earlier in the day, like Brian suggested, but Roger didn't want to. If this is your fault then it's mine and his, too, and there's no point in assigning blame anyway.” 

Freddie nodded. “You're right.”

John smiled but it didn't reach his eyes. He decided to change the subject to something more practical; something they could actually control. “By the way, do you think we should stay at your place? It's closest to here, and Roger and Brian can stay in the guest room.”

Freddie lit up. “Oh, darling, I insist on it! And you might as well call it ours; you stay there often enough.” 

John blushed. “Well, it's not like you’ve offered me a drawer or anything.”

Freddie chuckled. “I didn't need to! Half of the stuff in the closet is yours. And you've had a key for years. Honestly, dear, I would have asked you to officially move in with me by now, but I know how you like your independence.” 

“Alright.” 

“I- wait, what?”

John smiled. “Alright, I'll move in.”

Freddie's eyebrows shot to the ceiling. “Really? Darling, that's marvelous! The cats will be thrilled. I can't wait, this is wonderful!”

John laughed and kissed him softly. “Well, don't go on about it.”

Freddie beamed. “Do you think Roger will agree? I'm sure he'd rather be at their flat but it's such a longer trip, and we have more space.”

John shrugged. “Let's ask. It's been an hour.”

John walked up to the bed and gently put a hand on the drummer’s shoulder. “Roger?”

He blinked his eyes open slowly, instinctively checking on Brian first before looking up at John. “Hi.”

John smiled. “Hi.” 

Roger slowly detangled himself from Brian, sitting up and stretching. “How's it going?” 

He yawned, and Freddie mimicked the action reflexively. “We were thinking of plans for after, when we get out of here.” 

“Great! Actually, I was going to ask, would it be too much trouble if we stayed at yours? It's a shorter drive, and being in a car will probably be hell for Brian right now. I completely understand if you don't want to, though-”

“Oh, hush, Roger, of course we want to. That was our idea, too.” Freddie interrupted. “It'll be closer, as well, if we need to bring him back here. I'm sure we won't, but just in case.” 

“Thanks. I really appreciate it. Bri will argue, but he doesn't get a say.”

Freddie chuckled. “I think he'll just be happy to be anywhere but here.” 

As if on cue, Brian's eyes slowly blinked open. He grimaced at the pain it caused and couldn't hold back a soft moan.

Roger whipped his head around. “Hey there. You alright?”

He'd closed his eyes again. “Mm hmm.”

“Liar.”

The corner of his mouth twitched into a slight smile. “Maybe ‘alright’ is too strong a word.” 

“Let me rephrase, then. Do you need anything?”

“I'm ok.”

John was careful to keep his voice down. “Want to do a concussion check while you're up? Otherwise we'll have to wake you again in an hour.”

Brian cracked his eyes open again and started to push himself up. Roger steadied him as he sat back against the headboard. 

Freddie grinned. “Let’s think of something juicy.”

Brian smiled at that. John thought for a minute. “Hmm… what year was the first Beatles record released?” 

Freddie rolled his eyes. “Wow, scandalous.” Roger giggled.

“1963.” Brian answered. John nodded affirmatively.

They all sat silently for a minute, and Brian smiled in amusement. “Was that it?” 

John laughed. “It probably doesn't even need to be questions, as long as we can tell you're coherent.” 

“We could just talk, then?”

John shrugged. “Sure, I think so. Why, did you have something in mind?”

Brian looked hesitant. “Only if you want to. It's totally ok if you don't.” John looked at him quizzically, but Roger seemed to know what he was getting at.

“You want to talk about what happened?” 

Brian nodded. “Only if it's ok with you.”

Freddie hummed thoughtfully. “It would probably do us all some good, if you're up for it.” John nodded in agreement.

“I think so, too. It'll help, I reckon.” Roger added.

“What’s the last thing you remember?” John asked.

Brian tried to think back. “The light falling, I guess. There's little bits after that, but I can't make any sense of them.” 

Freddie cleared his throat. “I ran backstage right away to get help, once Roger made sure you were… you know. Anyway, I called an ambulance. Miami told me to wait for them so he could talk to security and make sure no one bothered us. Waiting was torture, let me tell you.”

John jumped in next. “Me and Roger lifted you up so you wouldn't be laying in broken glass. It took a minute of trying, but he finally woke you. You were super out of it; I'd be surprised if you remembered, honestly. I tried to stop the bleeding while Roger kept you awake.” 

Roger nodded. “And then I felt bad because I yelled at Deaky, and-”

“Wait, why’d you yell at Deaky?” Brian asked.

“Oh, he wanted to get you to the first aid kit.”

When Roger didn't explain further, Brian looked to Freddie, but Freddie looked equally confused and simply shrugged at him. Brian turned back to Roger. “Well, I do hope you can find it in your heart to forgive him.”

John giggled and Roger let out an annoyed huff. “I thought he was going to move you. It wouldn't have been safe. That's why I freaked out. Besides, he was already using his jacket on the bleeding; I dunno what we would have even taken from the kit.”

Brian looked at John apologetically. “Aw, you liked that jacket.” 

Without missing a beat, John replied, “Yes, I did, and I want you to understand that the emotional toll of its loss has left me a broken shell of a man. Maybe you'll think about that the next time you decide to start bleeding all over the place?”

Brian bit his lip to keep from laughing. “Has anyone ever told you that you have a tendency to be a bit sarcastic? 

“Not to my recollection, but I'll keep you updated.” 

Brian did laugh this time, shaking his head. “This is why I love you. Roger would have just told me to shut up.”

Roger nodded. “And Freddie wouldn't have given you his jacket in the first place.”

Freddie gasped. “How could I? It's a limited edition, you know that! I would sooner have used my boxers.”

Brian made a face of disgust. “Deaky, I'd like to formally thank you for doing what had to be done to keep Freddie's pants away from my face.”

“Let's not make a habit of it.” John replied, dropping his deadpan delivery to smile at him.

Roger waited for a beat, before clearing his throat to continue the story. “Anyway, after that you asked for Deaky, which was sweet-”

“Hey,” Freddie protested, “What about me?

John rolled his eyes. “He asked about you five seconds later, drama queen.” 

Freddie pouted, and Brian laughed softly.

“Fred, next time I'm heavily concussed and not consciously aware of my surroundings, I promise I'll say your name first.” 

Freddie grinned. “See? That's all I ask!”

Brian laughed again. “Alright, then what?” 

“You thought you were going to be sick, but you just sort of… heaved. Then you passed out in Roger’s arms, just in time for the paramedics to arrive,” John added. 

“Honestly, darling, that's so dramatic of you.” Freddie said, still grinning, but Brian’s eyes were fixed on Roger, wanting to comfort him. 

Before he could, Roger said, “Deaks went in the ambulance with you. We met him here. We were in the waiting room for a while until the doctor let us come in the room.” 

Freddie sighed happily. “Then you woke up and it was happily ever after!” 

Brian took a deep breath. “Wow. Sounds like it was… a lot.” 

“Don't you dare apologize, or I'll tell Roger where I found your secret diary,” Freddie threatened. 

Brian laughed in surprise. “I don't have a diary.”

Freddie looked confused. “But… under your bed… the journal with all that space stuff on it-”

“Oh, that's mine.” Roger added nonchalantly.

Freddie looked even more confused. “Why would you have a notebook with stars and constellations all over it?”

“Because he stole it from me,” Brian answered, “And what the hell were you doing under the bed?”

“Now, dear, we were talking about you, remember?” 

Brian laughed. “Anyway, point taken. I'll try not to apologize.”

“By the way, Freddie, you probably don't want to read that. I talk a lot of shit about you in there,” Roger said, grinning at Freddie's offended expression. 

John cleared his throat. “If I could go back to being serious for a minute...” They all turned to him and he continued, “I don't want to stress you out, Brian, but the doctor said it will probably take you several weeks to recover. We were thinking maybe you and Roger could stay at our place?”

“You're so sweet, but you don't have to- wait, ‘our place’?” Brian said, squinting suspiciously.

Freddie jumped up excitedly. “Yes! Deaky and I are moving in together!” 

Brian smiled brightly. “That's great!”

“What the hell? You didn't tell me that!” Roger pouted.

“Oops, sorry darling. Well, now you know. I guess it's all settled, then?”

Brian tried to protest. “Wait, I didn't-”

Freddie cut him off. “I'm so glad you agreed. It will be just like old times.” 

Brian laughed, knowing he was fighting a losing battle. “Alright. Thank you.” 

John smiled. “Of course.” 

Without warning, a loud siren went off as an ambulance sped out of the parking lot. The effect was instantaneous; Brian flinched violently and slammed his hands over his ears, shrinking back and curling in on himself.

“Brian, Bri-” Roger tried, but it didn't seem like he could hear him. He was trembling as Roger gently grabbed his shoulders, and Freddie and John just watched helplessly. Tears started leaking out of his eyes. The pain was too much; it was spiraling him. He couldn't think clearly. He couldn't breathe. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the awful noise died down, but piercing pain still shot through his head. The terrible sound was gone; why did he still feel like he was drowning? It was too much. Everything was too much. Voices were trying to talk to him, he could tell, but he couldn't understand them. The sounds were muddy and blended into each other. He vaguely recognized that he should probably do something to assure his friends that he was ok, but he had a hard time clinging to that singular thought for long enough to do anything about it. He couldn't focus on that or anything else until Roger's soft whisper finally pulled him out of his head. “Love, open your eyes, please.” He did, and Roger's bright blue irises grounded him instantly. “There you are. Do you need a nurse?”

Brian shook his head. “No.” His voice wavered. 

“I think you just had a panic attack. Head injuries can do that; make people more anxious, and extremely sensitive to light and sound,” Roger said kindly, running a hand through his hair. That would explain why he couldn't stop shaking, and why he couldn't get enough air. More tears started falling down his face before he could stop them. Roger pulled him into a tight hug. “You're safe. I'm here. I know it feels like shit, but you're safe.” 

Freddie and John both looked stunned as Brian quietly cried into Roger's shoulder, but he calmed down after a little while and pulled back. “I think I'm ok now.” He glanced over at the other two, looking guilty.

“Remember, you're not allowed to apologize,” Freddie warned.

“Or what? You'll tell me more of Roger's secrets?”

That softened the nervous tension in the room and all four of them relaxed, laughing. Freddie smiled at him. “Speaking of Roger, how come he gets all the hugs? I want one!”

Brian laughed. “Come here, then.” Freddie jumped up and ran over, leaning in to give him the gentlest possible embrace. John went in next, even ruffling his hair a bit. Brian hummed contentedly. “I love you guys.”

“Yeah, yeah, we love you too,” John answered. “Stop being so cheesy.”

Brian chuckled. Roger kept a hand on his arm protectively, even though the attack had completely passed. 

Freddie yawned and turned to John. “Would you like to sleep next, or shall I?”

Brian's eyebrows furrowed. “You're only sleeping one at a time?”

“Me and Fred slept before you woke up the first time. We’re fine.” John assured.

Brian frowned and turned to Roger. “What about you?”

“I was just asleep when you were.” 

Brian sighed. “You don't need to stay awake on my account; especially two of you at once.” 

Freddie batted his eyelashes innocently. “Would you do it for me?”

Brian opened his mouth for a moment before closing it again, at a loss. “...Alright. You win.”

Freddie smiled smugly. “Ha!”

Brian started to move like he was going to climb out of the bed, but Roger stopped him. “What the hell are you doing?” 

Brian groaned, looking embarrassed. “Promise me you'll all forget this immediately after it happens, ok?”

They stared at him like he was crazy. He sighed. “Um, Rog, could you help me to the bathroom?”

“Feeling sick? There's a bucket on the side of-” 

“Not that.”

Roger nodded in understanding. “Course, Bri. And you can stop looking so embarrassed about it. It's really not a big deal; you're just a grown man who can't take a piss by himself.”

“Thanks, Roger. I feel so much better.”

“That's what I'm here for. Let me help you up, ok?” 

Freddie walked over to the pair in case they needed extra support. John stationed himself at the door, just in case. 

Roger guided Brian to the edge of the bed and he swung his long legs over the side. Roger wrapped his arm around his middle and helped to lift him up. The moment he was fully standing, his eyelids fluttered and he started to tip, knees buckling. Freddie ran over to help hold him upright as Roger tightened his grip. “Woah, woah-” 

Brian squeezed his eyes shut, trying to regain his balance as the room continued to spin dangerously. He tried to stop swaying, pretty sure he would be on the floor if his friends weren't holding him up.

“Brian?” 

He opened his eyes to see Freddie's right in front of him, looking worried. _Just keep breathing_ , he thought. _In and out. In and out._ “I'm ok.”

Roger rubbed his back. “Can you keep going? Or do you need to lie back down?” 

“No, I can keep going.” 

John was halfway out the door, ready to call for help if necessary. Brian smiled at him weakly. He continued the slow walk to the tiny bathroom, Freddie and Roger supporting him from either side. It was only a few feet away from the bed, but the journey to the door felt endless. Once they reached it, Roger turned to Freddie. “I can handle this part. Let's not embarrass him more than we have to.” Freddie chuckled and backed up.

Brian tried to keep his eyes focused. “You can wait here, Rog, you don't need-”

“Absolutely not. Is this really the room you want to pass out in?” 

Brian sighed and let Roger lead him inside. Freddie and John waited nervously until they heard the toilet flush and the sink running, and Brian and Roger walked back out. Freddie ran over again to help him get Brian back on the bed.

He winced at each movement, but was finally settled back against his pillow, breathing heavily. “Thanks.”

“No thanks necessary, dear.” Freddie smiled at him. “Do you need anything?” 

He shook his head softly. “You and Deaky should get some rest. I won't sleep for a while, I can tell.”

Freddie scoffed. “You're just saying that.”

Brian huffed out a laugh. “No, really. I'm gonna be up for a bit. Besides, Roger will be here. I know I can't convince him.”

Roger nodded. “True, you can't.”

John looked skeptical. “Roger, wake one of us up if he falls asleep, ok?” 

“I will, relax.” 

Brian smiled. “I don't suppose I can talk you into trying to find somewhere more comfortable?” They both glared at him and he laughed. “Well, it was worth a shot.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And you thought the last chapter was long!
> 
> Full disclosure, a lot of this chapter is fluff that I basically wrote as fanservice for myself, but some big things happen!

Brian looked back and forth between Roger and the sleeping pair across the room, struggling to keep his mind in one place. It made him anxious, even though he knew it would pass.

“I can hear you overthinking.” Roger said, scooting closer to him.

“I feel strange. Like my brain is… fuzzy.”

Roger smiled sympathetically. “That's normal. It won't last.”

Brian sighed, bringing his hand to Roger's hair when he snuggled up next to him. “It's frustrating. I can't think clearly; I can't focus normally. I don't like it.”

“Well, it would be weird if you did,” Roger offered.

Brian’s mouth quirked up into a smile. “You've really got an answer for everything, haven't you?”

“Yup. I'm the brains and you're the looks in this relationship.” Roger replied, grinning.

“That doesn't sound right.”

“Which part?”

Brian laughed. “I can't answer that! Either I have to say that I'm not good looking or that you're not smart, and either way you'll be mad at me.”

“So you concede that you're the looks and I'm the brains, then?” Roger teased.

“Yeah, sure, Rog. Whatever makes you happy.” Brian kept carding through his hair, the repetitive motion relaxing him.

“You make me happy,” Roger mumbled absentmindedly, sound muffled a bit where his face was buried in Brian's shirt.

Brian’s cheeks flushed. “Were you always this sweet?”

“I have to be. You're the handsome one, after all.”

Brian laughed. “If you say so.” Roger smiled and Brian’s expression turned serious. “Thank you, Roger.” 

“What for?”

“Everything. Taking care of me. Being so… _you_ all time. And you make me happy, too.”

Roger couldn't hide his blush. “You couldn't get rid of me if you tried, so don't bother. And thank you too.”

Now Brian looked seriously confused. “...for?”

“Not bleeding out on the stage floor. Or losing all your memories. Or permanently damaging the part of your brain that controls your taste in men.”

Brian snorted. “Not sure I can take the credit for any of that, but you're welcome, I guess.”

“Were you lying to Freddie and Deaky to get them to sleep?” 

Brian gasped in mock offense. “You insult me!” 

“Oh, come on.”

“No, I really don't feel like I'm going to sleep for a little while. I can just tell. I'm not forcing myself to stay awake, if that's what you're worried about.”

Roger nodded, satisfied. “I believe you.”

“How are you doing?” Brian asked. 

Roger shook his head in exasperation. “You're infuriating.”

Brian blinked. “Is… is that your answer?”

“Yes. You're infuriating. Can't you just take care of yourself for once? Stop worrying about us?” 

“Rog-”

“No, I'm serious. Why the hell can't you just focus on your own health for one damn minute?”

“What's so bad about me wanting to know how you feel?” 

Roger sighed heavily. “Nothing, I'm sorry. I just want you to prioritize yourself, that's all. Let us take care of you. We love you and we want to help. That's all there is to it. But you feel guilty, don't you?”

“Yes,” Brian admitted. “And so do you, I can tell.”

“Yeah, I guess I do. And so do that lot, I'm sure.” Roger said, gesturing to Freddie and John. “We're a bunch of disasters.” 

Brian laughed. “Ooh, new band name?” Roger snorted. “Really, though, Rog, I want to know how you're doing. It helps me.”

“I'm… better.”

Brian smiled. “I'm glad. Thanks for telling me.”

Roger rolled his eyes. “Stubborn bastard.”

Brian chuckled. “So, how about Freddie and Deaky?” 

Roger smiled. “Took ‘em long enough! You popped the question after, like, six months.”

“What are you talking about? You walked into my apartment with a suitcase and said ‘it's too quiet at my place’ and then just went to bed.”

Roger waved him off. “Semantics.”

Brian laughed. “I would have asked, you know.”

“I know, but it was so much more romantic this way. Better story for the grandkids.”

Brian smiled, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Grandkids, huh?”

Roger looked mortified. “Oh, I just meant, I dunno, I didn't-”

“Relax, Roger. I'm teasing you.”

“Wanker.” 

Brian smiled. “You’d be a good dad.”

Roger raised an eyebrow. “Yeah? I thought I'd be the mum.”

“Don't be stupid, I'm the mum.” 

“You know what, this isn't going to work out. It's been fun.”

Brian laughed. “I can't believe _that_ was the final straw.” He giggled when Roger snuggled up closer to him. “You're cute."

Roger scowled. “I am not cute. I'm sexy and intimidating and badass.” 

“But you looked so cute saying that!”

Roger flipped him off. 

“Rog?”

“Yeah?”

“I'm sorry I don't always take good care of myself. I'm trying to be better with that.”

Roger smiled softly. “I know, and it's ok. It's not like this was your fault.”

“Exactly. I was provoked. You should see the other guy.”

Roger made a face of disgust. “I can't believe I fell in love with such a loser.”

Brian shrugged. “It takes one to know one.”

“Careful. You know I can take you in a fight.”

“Mm, sure you can.”

Roger laughed. “Right. You, me, outside. Let's go.”

“That’s not fair! I'm injured,” Brian huffed.

“Awfully convenient excuse, if you ask me.”

Brian laughed. “That’s it. Help me up, I'm gonna kick your ass.”

“You've never been in a fight before, have you?”

Brian chuckled. “What gave me away?”

“Well,” Roger smiled, “First off, you usually don't ask the other guy to help you stand up.” 

Brian considered it. “Alright, I'll give you that.”

“Besides, you're too polite to fight someone. Good thing I'm here, otherwise you'd have to talk about space until they just left."

Brian rolled his eyes. “Ah, a ‘space is boring’ joke. Never heard that one before.” 

Roger played with one of his curls. “You should leave the sarcasm to Deaky. It doesn't suit you.” He laughed when Brian gently shoved him. “Hey, Bri?”

“Mm?”

Roger paused. “Would you ever think about marriage?”

Brian was speechless for a minute. “What… where did that come from?” 

Roger shrugged. “I dunno. I just… I really thought I lost you last night. I never want to feel like that again, ever. Makes you think, you know?”

Brian smiled sympathetically and kissed his forehead. “Yeah. Yeah, I would.”

Roger's eyes lit up. “Really? You'd get married? To me?” 

Brian laughed. “No, Rog, I'd get married to someone else.”

“ _Brian,_ ” He whined. “I'm being serious!”

Brian stared at him for a long moment. “Pretend I'm on one knee.”

Roger blinked. “What?”

“Roger Meddows Taylor, will you-”

“Wait, no, I wanted to be the one to ask!” Roger sputtered, but Brian kept going. 

“-marry me?” 

Roger just stared lamely, mouth hanging open with no words coming out. He laid there silently for so long that Brian started to get nervous. 

“...I’m sorry, Rog, it's ok if you don't-”

“Brian.” 

His stomach churned. “Um. Yeah?”

“Yes, idiot. Now, shut up for a second?” 

Brian giggled and Roger kissed him passionately, running his hands through his long hair while carefully avoiding his injuries. Brian's hands rested on his face, thumbs gently stroking his cheeks. Eventually they pulled away, smiling brightly at each other.

Brian sighed happily. “So… What does this mean? We obviously can't _actually_ marry.”

Roger chuckled. “I don't know. That we do everything the same but Freddie and Deaky make fun of us more?”

Brian laughed. “Sounds great.” 

Roger grinned. “Ooh, Freddie is gonna be so pissed that we one-upped his and Deaky's news.”

“I swear I didn't intend that.” 

“By the way, where's my ring? What kind of a proposal is this?” Roger pouted.

Brian chuckled. “Fine, I take it back.”

“Well, it was fun while it lasted.”

“Wait a minute. Shouldn't you get the rings? You're the one who wanted to propose, after all!”

Roger scoffed. “Yeah, and you didn't let me!”

“Alright, that's fair. I'll see what they have in the gift shop before we leave.”

“How do you even know there's a gift shop?”

Brian rolled his eyes. “I don't know. Smartass.”

Roger suddenly lowered his gaze, blinking rapidly, and Brian's expression shifted to one of concern.

“Sweetheart, are you crying?”

“I just got engaged. I'm allowed to cry.” He hid his face in Brian's chest, beginning to shake a bit.

“Rog?”

“I love you.” 

“I love you too, Roger. Are you ok?”

He sighed shakily. “Yeah, I… yeah. I'm really happy. I was _so_ scared and now I'm really, really happy. It's overwhelming.”

Brian hugged him tightly. “Maybe I should have waited until we were back home, I'm sorry.”

“No, that's not what I meant. I'm glad you did it now. It's perfect. And this is a better story.”

Brian smirked. “For the grandkids?”

Roger huffed out a laugh. “Yeah. For the grandkids. By the way, you better not wake up in a couple weeks and realize this was all your concussion talking.” 

Brian laughed. “I wanted to marry you before the concussion, don't worry.”

Roger’s eyes brightened even more. “I can't wait to tell Fred and Deaks. Should I wake them up?”

“No!”

“Why not?” He pouted. 

“Yeah, why not?” Freddie echoed, startling them both. They just sat silently for a minute, at a loss.

“How much did you hear?” Brian finally asked, looking extremely timid all of a sudden.

“Just my name. Why?” He smiled suspiciously. “What did you say?” 

“Go back to bed, Freddie. We’ll tell you in the morning.”

Freddie set his jaw. “Don't you dare leave me in suspense, Brian May.” He untangled himself from John, wincing apologetically when the latter started to stir.

John sat up groggily. “What's going on?”

Freddie smiled. “Well, my dear, Brian and Roger have some very important, top secret news.” 

John groaned. “Unless they're finally getting married or Roger is pregnant, I don't think it was worth waking me up over.”

When the silence lasted a beat too long, John looked at Brian and Roger, who were just staring at him, dumbfounded. His eyes widened. “Oh my God-”

Freddie squealed, jumping up and running over to the bed, where he gave them each a kiss on the cheek. “Ahh, this is marvelous! I've been waiting so long for this! Oh, my loves, I'm so happy for you!”

Brian laughed. “Thanks, Freddie.”

Freddie beamed. “Roggie, how did you do it? What did you say? And really, dear? In a hospital?”

Roger shrugged. “He asked. Not me.”

“Brian! I'm so proud of you!” Freddie exclaimed. 

“Hey,” Roger protested. “I brought it up! And how come it's ok if _he_ asked in the hospital?” 

“He can do whatever he wants, Liz. He was very nearly decapitated yesterday.”

Brian closed his eyes. “Good lord.”

John shot Freddie an exasperated look and then turned back to Brian and Roger. “Sorry, I didn't mean to steal your grand announcement like that. But, like I said at the beginning, I knew it would happen eventually. Also, I have to ask, you know that you can't legally marry, right?”

Roger rolled his eyes. “Gee, I sure wish you'd told us that before.”

John chuckled. “Just making sure. That's just a technicality, anyway. It doesn't matter.”

“No more talk of government rubbish,” Freddie insisted. “I'm in too good a mood. Ugh, I'm so glad you woke me up for this!"

Roger laughed. “We didn't.”

“You should have! And how _dare_ you do this the one time I'm not allowed to scream. Do you know how hard it was to hold that in?”

Roger laughed again. “I didn't even think of that. That was a brilliant plan, Bri, well done.”

“Speaking of Bri,” Freddie said, turning to the man in question, “How are you?”

Brian thought for a minute. “Emotionally? Great.”

Freddie laughed. “Well, I should hope so. And physically?” 

Brian winced. “...Less great.”

“Do you need anything? Sleep? Water? A hug?”

Brian smiled. “Water sounds great, but I don't know if I can hold it down.”

Freddie hummed. “Well, there's only one way to find out. We have the bucket and the mouthwash, if you need them. What do you think?” 

Brian chewed on his lip. “Alright, I'll try it.” 

Freddie grabbed a bottle from their snack pile and handed it to Brian, smiling in approval. Brian hesitantly untwisted the cap and took just about the smallest sip possible. 

Roger chuckled. “Woah, slow down. The night is young.” Brian flipped him off as he took a slightly bigger drink. He winced in nervous anticipation, but it seemed he was able to hold it down. 

Freddie beamed. “Good, this means you can leave the hospital soon!” 

Brian’s eyes brightened. “I'll take that hug now.”

Freddie grinned and perched on the edge of the bed, pulling him into his arms before returning to his seat by John.

“What's our plan?” John asked as Freddie threw an arm around him. 

Roger considered it. “My car is here. We can all go back to yours together, and then you two can stay with Brian while I grab some stuff from our place and bring it back. How long until you kick us out?”

“Oh, don't be stupid! Stay as long as you need. Three weeks, three months, I don't care,” Freddie insisted. 

John made a face. “Well, I care! Don't stay three months.” 

Roger rolled his eyes. “Wow, what did we do to deserve such generosity?”

“Not enough.”

Brian giggled. “You don't miss living with us, huh?”

“Oh, hell no. Roger taking bloody years in the shower, you starting the kettle and then seeing a bunny outside and just leaving it on the stove and forgetting about it until it wakes us all up, Freddie leaving his messes in the kitchen-”

“Wait,” Brian interjected, laughing, “You're still going to live with Freddie, though.” 

“Exactly. I've got enough to deal with as it is.” 

Brian shook his head in amusement. “And for the record, the bunny thing only happened once.”

“Sure, but that was only one example. I could go on.” 

Freddie rolled his eyes. “Alright, fine, stay at long as you need unless it's three months. In that case, you're on your own.”

Roger laughed. “Well, you're missing out. I'm a delight to live with, aren't I, Bri?” 

“Of course. I personally find it adorable when you use up all the hot water and I have to shower in the cold.” 

Roger sputtered indignantly. “Are we doing this? Fine, what if I woke _you_ up at one o'clock in the fucking morning to look at the stars?”

“I would be thrilled if you did that!”

Roger laughed. “You're truly the strangest person I've ever met.” 

Freddie gasped. “Darling, I'm _right_ here!”

“No, Fred, you're weird in the normal way. Brian is weird in the weird way. There's a big difference.”

Brian looked at John. “Should I be flattered or offended by this?” 

John shrugged. “I dunno. I stopped listening a while ago.”

Brian had a sudden realization that nearly made him gasp out loud, but he held back to avoid startling the others. “Oh my god, I need to call my mum and dad.”

Roger paled slightly. “Fuck, I can’t believe we didn’t do that. Shit.”

Freddie’s eyes widened. “Brian, I swear to god I thought of everything. I took care of _everything_. Except for that. Dammit.”

“It’s alright. I’ll talk to them in the morning. Later in the morning, that is. And thank you for taking care of things, all of you. I appreciate that. Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you feel bad… I just thought of it and I don’t want a repeat of… y’know. Um, I’ll call them in the morning.”

John smiled sympathetically, knowing exactly what Brian was alluding to and suspecting he knew none of them wanted to think about those memories. “It’ll be taken care of, Brian. Don’t worry.”

Brian smiled tiredly. “What time is it?”

John leaned over to look at the monitor. “6:20 am.”

Roger whistled softly. “We’ve been in this hospital for fourteen hours. Damn.”

A soft knock on the door startled all four of them, but Freddie stood to open it as Roger gently climbed out of the bed and sat beside Brian instead. The nurse from earlier walked in, looking just as energetic as she had the night before. “Good morning, Mr. May. How are you feeling?”

Brian had to think about it for a minute. “It’s hard to say.” 

She smiled knowingly. “In my experience, that’s the kind of thing people say when they don’t want to admit that it’s bad. Are you experiencing a lot of nausea?”

“Yes.”

“Dizziness?”

“Yes.”

“Pain in the head or neck?”

“Yes.”

“Both?”

Brian nodded.

“Those are all normal symptoms. How would you rate the pain?”

Brian glanced at Roger, and Roger smiled sadly. Brian cleared his throat and hesitantly answered, “Um, it’s… I’d say it’s the worst pain I’ve been in.”

Roger grimaced, making Brian feel a bit guilty. The nurse nodded. “Have you vomited?”

“No.”

“Are you experiencing any difficulty breathing?”

“No.”

“Good. It’s going to hurt, but I need you to look into this light for me, ok?”

Brian winced but obeyed, and the doctor continued chatting with him as she checked his eyes and then all of his vitals, smiling when she finally finished.

“Well, I think you’re recovering as well as we could have expected. We’re going to run a few tests, but hopefully you should be able to go home today.”

Brian’s eyes brightened. “Really?”

“If you can eat and drink, yes. You’ll need to come back in two weeks for a checkup, and to have the stitches removed.” She turned to the other three. “If at any point you can’t wake him or keep him awake, bring him back in right away.”

Roger bit his lip and nodded. “What else should we look out for?”

“These aren’t reasons to bring him back in, but you should also be prepared for the possibility of fainting spells, fever, and vomiting. Most of these symptoms are a result of the head trauma, but fevers can be caused by blood transfusions. Irritability and anxiety are also common for concussions.” She turned back to Brian and continued, “You should spend the next few weeks resting. No strenuous activity. Try to get a lot of sleep, but also make sure you’re eating and drinking regularly. I don’t know what your living arrangements are, but you should avoid being alone if possible in case of any sudden loss of consciousness.”

“He won’t be alone.” Roger jumped in, and Brian smiled shyly. 

Freddie looked deep in thought. “Excuse me, dear?”

The nurse turned to him. “Yes?”

Freddie hesitated. “There’s no way to ask this without sounding like a pretentious asshole, but you don’t happen to know if anybody followed us here, do you?”

She smiled. “You don’t need to feel bad asking that. There were some reporters, but I think we did a pretty good job of convincing them that there were no members of Queen anywhere around. We’ve done what we can to give you as much privacy as possible.”

Brian’s anxious expression softened. “Thank you!”

“You’re very welcome. Do you have any questions about any of this?”

“Can I call my parents?”

“We’ve been trying to contact them since last night, and we finally reached them this morning. They should be here in a few hours.”

Brian looked surprised, and a bit nervous. “Oh… thank you.”

She seemed puzzled by the clear discomfort in his voice, but she didn’t press. “Alright, we’ll need to take you in for some tests. The rest of you can have breakfast in the cafeteria while you’re waiting, if you’d like.”

Roger frowned. “We can’t go with him?”

She smiled again. “Not for the tests and scans.”

“Could we stay in here?”

She thought for a minute. “Normally I’d say no, but now that I think about it the cafeteria is probably pretty busy. You might be better off staying up here.”

Freddie nodded. “Alright, Bri, we’ll be here when you get back. Good luck on your exams and don’t cheat.”

Brian chuckled as the nurse helped him into a wheelchair. His gaze lingered on Roger until he finally had to turn around when she wheeled him out the door, and he was gone.

Roger took a deep breath. “So… now what?”

Freddie grinned. “Breakfast!” He pulled a handful of granola bars out of the plastic bag next to him, and Roger raised an eyebrow.

“Exactly how much food did you buy?”

“What are you, my financial advisor?”

John laughed. “No, that’s me.” Freddie tossed them each a bar and they began to eat.

A few minutes passed before a commotion in the hallway interrupted their conversation. Suddenly nurses and doctors were running down the hall and shouting to each other while some kind of alarm sounded in the distance, and Roger immediately felt a pit of dread in his stomach as he jumped up to run to the door.

Freddie stood and put a hand on his arm. “Rog, it’s not him.”

“How could you possibly know that?!”

“What could have happened so quickly?” John asked, hoping to diffuse the panic, but his question seemed to have the opposite effect on Roger.

“Anything! He could have internal bleeding! He could be unresponsive! He could be having a fucking seizure!” 

He moved to open the door and Freddie physically held him back. “Roger, stop. There must be hundreds of patients in this hospital.”

“Let _go_ of me,” Roger spat. 

Freddie didn’t falter. “Not until you calm down.”

Roger could feel his heart racing faster and faster as the pounding in his head intensified. “Get your fucking hands off me-”

 _"ROGER.”_ John’s voice was so commanding that Roger instantly stopped struggling in Freddie’s grip and looked at him in surprise. “Rog, he’s fine. He’s _fine_. You need to cool it; you’re not helping anything. You’re sleep deprived and stressed out of your mind, I get it. But you’re not going to have a meltdown and you’re not going to yell at Freddie like that, alright?”

Freddie didn’t loosen his grip when Roger forced his muscles to relax, but despite the arms wrapped tightly around him, he somehow managed to turn himself around and fall to Freddie’s chest. “I’m sorry…”

Freddie rubbed a hand up and down his back. “I know, honey. I’m not upset.” He could feel Roger begin to tremble. “Aw, Liz, it’s ok.” 

Roger took a shaky deep breath, eyes filling with tears. “He can’t die. I can’t… He can’t leave me. Oh my god, what would I do if…” He trailed off, feeling like his throat was closing up. Suddenly he couldn’t get any air, no matter how hard he tried, and Freddie’s voice became deeply concerned. 

“Rog, breathe. Just breathe. He’s alive. Don’t think about things like that, or you won’t enjoy the time you have now.”

It took a few minutes for his breathing to slow down. “Fred, I don’t feel so good...”

Freddie frowned. “What’s wrong? Are you going to be sick?”

“No, I’m just… really tired, I think. My head hurts.”

“Can you sleep?” John asked gently. “You have some time. You need rest, Roger; you’ve been through hell.”

“Maybe…”

Freddie sat down, maneuvering Roger so he was basically on his lap. Roger didn’t protest; undoubtedly a testament to his physical and mental state. Freddie sighed and began to sing softly. 

_“Don’t you hear my call though you're many years away…”_

Roger slightly loosened his grip around Freddie and closed his eyes.

_“Don’t you hear me calling you…”_

John sat down next to the pair on put one hand on Freddie’s shoulder, gently carding through Roger’s hair with the other.

_“Write your letters in the sand ‘til the day I take your hand…”_

Roger’s breathing began to fully even out as he relaxed against Freddie. 

_“In the land that our grandchildren knew…”_

Freddie continued to sing, intentionally making each line softer until his voice was barely above a whisper, and Roger eventually fell asleep in his arms.

John waited until he was sure Roger was out cold before speaking again, smiling at Freddie softly. “I love you.”

“My voice has that effect on people.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for this, but I decided to demonize Brian's dad as a plot device. This is purely for narrative purposes and is in no way intended to be a reflection or implied perception of Brian's actual family. Again, I'm writing a fictionalized version of these people; it's not supposed to actually be them.
> 
> I've heavily infused Brian (and the rest of them, but especially Brian) with my own insecurities and anxieties, hence the self-projection thing. So, take that to mean whatever you will.
> 
> Also, I really wanted a reason to write Angry!John and this was perfect. Hope you like it!

Freddie and John were surprised to see Brian walking back into the room rather than using the wheelchair, even though he had to lean heavily on the nurse to do it. Still, that was progress. Freddie gently shook Roger. “Wake up, sunshine, look who’s back.”

Brian was staring at Roger’s sleeping form with concern. “Is he ok?”

John gave him a reassuring smile. “He had a bit of an anxiety attack, I think, but he’s fine. He’s been asleep in Freddie’s lap for about two hours, which I will not let him live down for the rest of his life.”

Brian smiled sympathetically, still gazing at Roger with worry. Freddie shook Roger again and his eyes blinked open groggily. Freddie looked back up at Brian.

“What about you, dear? You’re looking rather pale.” 

“It’s just all the movement. It’s making me quite dizzy.” Brian admitted, eyes never leaving the drummer.

Roger looked around, seemed to remember where he was, and immediately ran over to Brian and enveloped him in a hug. The nurse chuckled as Brian made a noise of surprise before returning the embrace. “Rog, are you alright?”

Roger didn’t answer, just kept his face buried in Brian’s neck. The nurse smiled at them knowingly. “I hate to break this up, but let’s get you back in bed for one more round of fluids; you’re still dehydrated.” 

Roger obediently pulled back and helped her settle Brian onto the bed. She administered the IV and announced she’d be back in a little while to remove it before quietly slipping out the door. 

Brian closed his eyes for a moment, opening them again when he felt Roger’s hand in his. He locked eyes with him and smiled tiredly. “Hey.”

Roger smiled. “Hey.”

Brian’s eyes were still full of concern. “Are you ok?”

“Would you be?” Roger countered.

“Hell no.”

Roger laughed. “Well, there you go.” 

Brian stroked the back of Roger’s hand with his thumb. “I’m here. Whatever you need.”

Roger smiled. “I know. What about you? You look awful.”

Brian snorted. “Thanks.”

Roger smirked. “You know what I mean. Answer the question.”

Brian closed his eyes again. “There was a lot of moving around, that’s all. I’m just… really lightheaded.” 

“That’s why they’re pumping you full of the good stuff.”

Brian chuckled. “Are you ok if I sleep a bit before my parents get here?”

Roger felt his heart sink at the anxiety coloring Brian’s voice. “Of course, go ahead.” 

Brian opened his eyes. “Come here, I have to tell you something.”

Roger’s eyebrows furrowed. “Something you can’t tell Freddie and Deaky?”

“Trust me, they don’t want to hear it.”

Roger chuckled. “Alright then.” He leaned in close enough for Brian to whisper to him, but he just caught him off guard with a kiss instead. 

Roger laughed. “You _used_ me!”

Brian smiled, closing his eyes again. “Mm hmm.”

John rolled his eyes. “You were right. I really didn’t want to know that.”

Brian grinned. “I warned you.”

Roger laughed. “Hush and go to sleep.” 

He knew exactly what Brian was doing; being playful to distract and relax him, and Roger loved him for it. He watched him slowly fall asleep, and, if he was being honest, he already couldn’t wait for him to wake up again. It felt selfish, but it was true.

Freddie sighed. “I’m probably going to hell for this, but I wish his father wasn’t coming.”

John half-smiled. “Me too. But let’s be honest, Fred, there’s a lot of reasons why you’re going to hell.”

“That stings a little.”

John laughed. “Hopefully the visit will be quick and we can go home as soon as possible.”

“How are you doing now, Rog?” Freddie asked.

Roger shrugged. “I dunno. Is it wrong that I have a near constant desire to punch Harold in the face every time I see him?”

Freddie chuckled. “I don’t blame you.”

“I wouldn’t recommend actually doing it, though.” John added. “No matter what he says about you.”

“I don’t give a damn what he says about me! I want to cuss him out for the look Brian gets in his eyes just talking about him. It’s no wonder he’s so hard on himself, the way he was raised! His dad makes him think he’s a failure.”

Freddie sighed. “I know, darling. I agree with Deaky; let’s hope they’re in and out in a flash so we can go home and have a three hour snuggle session on my couch.”

Roger snorted. “You do realize he hasn’t actually been discharged yet…?”

“He will be, because the test results will show that all he needs is lots of rest and cuddles. He’ll be back on his feet in no time.”

“Technically he’s already been back on his feet.”

Freddie rolled his eyes. “Must you make everything difficult?” 

Roger grinned. “Must I? No. Will I? Absolutely.”

~~~~

The nurse returned to remove Brian’s IV about an hour later. As much as she went out of her way to be gentle, it didn’t stop him from waking up at the sensation. She smiled at him. “It’s probably a good thing that you’re up. I imagine your parents could be here at any time.”

Brian tried to smile, but even the nurse could tell it was forced. She looked at Brian thoughtfully and her expression became more serious. 

“Mr. May, if you don’t want them here, I can refuse them entrance to the room.”

Brian’s eyes widened. “No, no, they can come in! Of course they can come in.”

She didn’t look convinced. “I’m just making sure. Forgive me for being so forward, and I know it’s really not my business, but I can’t help but notice you seem a bit stressed every time I bring it up. More stress is not what you need right now.”

He gave her a real smile this time. “Thank you, really. But trust me, I’m a lot more stressed at the idea of you turning them away. Besides, they’re fine. It’s fine.”

She considered it for a moment longer, looking conflicted. “If you’re sure. Again, I apologize for prying.”

“No, it’s ok. I appreciate it.” Brian replied.

It was obvious he was being sincere, and she nodded. “I’ll be back to discuss your test results as soon as they’re ready. You can still press the call button if you need anything.”

“Thank you. You’ve been wonderful.” Brian said, and she smiled warmly before slipping out of the room again.

Freddie let out a low whistle. “Damn. She’s intuitive.”

Brian chuckled anxiously. “Listen, if you guys want to leave before-”

Freddie scoffed. “No way! We were here first.”

Brian laughed despite himself. “Freddie-”

“Drop it, Bri, we’re staying,” John insisted.

Brian smiled softly. “Alright. Thanks.”

As if on cue, there was a soft knock on the door. Freddie glanced and Brian, and Brian nodded, so Freddie stood and opened the door. Roger didn’t miss the relief in Brian's eyes when he saw that it was only his mother waiting there.

Ruth’s eyes were bright with worry and she ran over to his bedside the minute she saw him, delicately running her hands all over his face. “Oh, sweetie, are you alright?”

Brian smiled warmly at her. “I’m fine, mum.”

She continued to inspect him. “My poor baby; I’m so sorry we couldn’t be here sooner!”

He kissed her on the cheek. “It’s ok, really. Where’s dad?”

“He had to park the car. He’ll be in soon.”

Brian nodded, saying nothing. Roger felt himself tense up, already feeling a rush of protectiveness.

Freddie cleared his throat. “Hello, Mrs. May.”

She looked up from Brian as if suddenly realizing the others were there. “Hello, Freddie. John, Roger. I feel like it’s been so long since I’ve seen you!” She smiled at Freddie and John but pulled Roger into a hug. Roger glanced over her shoulder at Brian, who looked distinctly paler, and followed his gaze to the doorway where his father was now standing. Roger quickly sat down, trying to draw as little attention to himself as possible.

Brian fidgeted. “Hi, dad.”

“Hello, Brian. How are you feeling?”

The tension in the air was suffocating. Roger squirmed uncomfortably in his seat when Brian’s father continued to pointedly avoid making eye contact with him. Brian clearly noticed as well and glanced at Roger apologetically. “I’m ok.” When there was no response, Brian cleared his throat and added, “How are you?”

“Fine.”

Roger thought the deafening silence might drive him insane until Harold finally broke it. “You should come and stay with us for a while. It's dangerous to be alone with a head injury.” 

Brian kept his face carefully neutral. “I don't live alone, dad, you know that.”

He set his jaw, staring at Brian hard. “I couldn't have known it would last.” 

Brian winced and Roger felt anger bubbling up in his stomach. Ruth shot her husband a dirty look but he didn't pay any attention. Brian's eyes hardened a little. “Thanks, but I'll be staying with John and Freddie and _Roger_.” 

Harold scowled. “Right, because that’s done you a fat lot of good up ‘till now.”

Brian's eyes flashed dangerously. “Excuse me?”

“ _Harold!”_ Ruth admonished, looking horrified, but once again he paid her no mind.

“Come on, Brian, it's their bloody fault you're in this mess to begin with. You should be continuing your studies and settling down with a nice girl, not wasting your life with all this! Just look where it's gotten you!”

Brian stared at him incredulously, visibly flinching at the venom behind the words. Roger tried to calm his rage so he wouldn't cause a scene and make everything worse, and Freddie and John just looked at each other in shock. Finally, Brian said, very calmly, “I'd like you to leave now.” 

“Brian-” Ruth tried, but he didn't let her finish. 

“Thank you for visiting, mum. It was good to see you.” He turned back to his father and all the warmth left his voice. “Please go.” 

Harold quietly walked out as if nothing had happened, and Ruth shot her son one last apologetic look before following him into the hallway.

Brian stared at the door for a long time. The other three looked at each other nervously, unsure if they should say anything, until finally Brian turned back to them. “I'm _so_ sorry.” 

Roger’s anger returned full force when he saw Brian's tormented expression. “You don't have to be sorry! Are you ok?!”

The anger had left his eyes, leaving only sadness and guilt and something akin to terror. “I don't know. I can't believe he did that in front of all of you.” He tried to take a calming breath, but it caught in his throat. “Oh God.” He put his head in his hands and Roger immediately moved to comfort him, desperately hoping he wouldn't have another panic attack. 

Freddie finally found his voice again. “Brian, I don't know what the hell you think you're apologizing for, but we should be thanking you for sticking up for us like you did! That was ballsy.” 

“I couldn't just sit here and let him talk about you that way.” 

“He shouldn't talk to you like that either, Bri. You deserve better,” John countered, eyes flashing with a combination of protectiveness and fury. “He’s got some damn nerve coming in here and putting all that on you when you’re already hurt and sick in the hospital. As if you don’t have enough on your plate! I mean, god... his own son, his _only_ fucking kid could have died last night and he comes all the way here just to treat him like shit?!”

Everyone looked a bit shocked at John’s outburst, himself most of all. His eyes widened like he couldn’t believe what he’d just done.

“I’m so sorry; that was way out of line. I had no right to say any of that...” He trailed off, looking deeply guilty.

Without thinking, Brian stood up from the bed and crashed into a hug. John yelped in surprise, quickly recovering to throw his arms around Brian and make sure he didn’t fall over. Roger jumped up too, shaking his head in disbelief. “Jesus, Brian, you could have just asked him to come over to you!”

Brian still had his arms around John, and John could tell it wasn’t just to hold himself upright. “Sorry. Didn’t really think that one through.” John laughed into his shoulder. 

He finally pulled back from John and Roger immediately ran to his side to steady him. Brian smiled at all of them. “He was wrong. You three are the best thing to ever happen to me.”

Freddie nodded resolutely. “He’s wrong about a lot of things. Now get your ass back to the bed before you pass out on the floor.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter is so short, but I suppose it evens out the length of all the previous ones! Not a whole lot of action in this chapter; just some conversations I felt needed to be had.
> 
> Chapter 8 is done but I haven't finished chapter 7 yet, so it might be a bit before I post it. That's what I get for writing out of order.
> 
> Thank you for reading!

The four of them were thrilled when the doctor told them Brian could go home in a couple hours, provided he could hold down the food they gave him. It was John’s idea for himself and Freddie to take Roger’s car to their flat to grab anything they might need in the coming weeks, and then, by the time they got back, hopefully Brian and Roger would be ready to head to Freddie and John’s house. Roger had to briefly leave Brian alone and fill out all of the necessary paperwork required for him to be discharged, but Brian reassured him he would just sleep the whole time.

When Roger returned, however, Brian was wide awake. He smiled at Roger but didn’t say anything, and he seemed a bit distant, like he wasn’t all there.

“Are you sure you’re ok?”

He nodded, but it was obvious he was lying, and Roger frowned. After a few minutes of uncomfortable silence, he couldn’t stand it anymore. “There’s something you’re not telling me. You promised you wouldn’t do that.”

Brian winced, looking guilty. “I was going to tell you! It’s my mum and dad.”

Roger sighed. “It’s alright to be upset, of course it is, but don’t keep things from me. You know that’s not fair.” Brian bit his lip nervously, and Roger’s slight frustration shifted into protectiveness again. “Bri-”

“I told them we’re engaged. They came to see me again, separately, when you were taking care of the paperwork. I guess they never left that whole time.”

Roger’s jaw dropped. “Oh! Um… how did it go?” 

Brian’s expression was difficult for Roger to read. “My mum is thrilled. You know how she loves you.”

Roger blushed. “And your dad?”

Brian smiled sadly and Roger’s stomach flipped in nervous anticipation. “He didn’t say anything.”

Roger had honestly been expecting worse, but still his heart sank at the deep sadness in Brian’s eyes. “Nothing at all?” 

Brian shook his head. “Didn't even really look at me.”

Roger took a deep breath. “Brian, I’m so sorry. I’m sure he’ll come around. My mum was super surprised when I told her, but she’s excited now. You should have seen the look on her face.”

Brian’s eyebrows furrowed in bewilderment. “Your parents were here?”

“Oh, no, I meant when I first told her I wanted to marry you.”

Brian’s entire demeanor relaxed as he smiled and blushed slightly. “You said that?”

“A while back, yeah.”

Brian leaned forward and took Roger's face in his hands, pulling him into a kiss. “We’ll be ok.”

Roger smiled and ruffled his hair. “Of course we will. We always are. Just… please always be honest with me, alright? When I ask if you’re ok, I want the truth.”

Brian returned his smile, nodding, but the anxiety was visible in his eyes again. Roger studied him. “Hey, Bri? I should probably tell you something, too. You know, before we do this.”

Brian frowned with concern. “Is everything ok?”

“Yeah, yeah, I just… I don't want you to look at me differently.” 

“I won't! You can tell me anything Rog, I won't be upset. What is it?”

Roger took a long pause. “I think I'm gay.”

Brian tried his best not to smile, but he couldn't help it. “I so want to be mad, but that actually made me feel a bit better.” 

Roger laughed. “Good. I've always wanted to do that. Seemed like a good time.” 

Brian rolled his eyes, still smiling. “How do you always know what will put me at ease?”

“I'm psychic.” 

“Oh? What am I thinking right now?”

Roger stroked his chin. “Hmm… I'm the best looking man you've ever laid your eyes on.”

Brian scoffed. “As if that proves anything! Everyone is always thinking that.”

“I'm going to have to ask you not to flirt with me. You seem like a nice guy but I'm already betrothed.” 

_“Betrothed?”_

“You know, engaged, taken, spoken for.”

Brian laughed. “I know what betrothed means, Roger. You’re starting to sound like Freddie.”

“Speaking of, he wants to know if he can be the maid of honor. I'm assuming you'll want Deaky to be your best man.”

“Isn’t it a little early to start making plans?”

Roger looked him dead in the eye. “Fred’s been asking me this for the last two and a half years.” 

“Oh my god.” 

Roger chuckled. “I didn't even tell him anything. I guess he just knew.”

“You know how much I love you, right?” 

Roger blinked in surprise at the sudden question. “Yes, you tell me ten times a day. Trust me, you leave very little room for doubt.” 

“Good. Because I love you more than anything. More than music, or science, or my dad's approval.” 

Roger stared at him, dumbstruck. “Dammit, Brian, how the hell am I supposed to top that? I love you more than bacon, if that counts for anything.” 

Brian laughed. “I'm honored.”

Roger sighed, a bit sad that Brian even thought he needed to ask. “Do you really not realize how often you tell me that? And show me? Trust me, I do know it. No one has ever made me feel as loved as you do.” 

“I just... I’d be devastated if you ever thought even for a second...”

“That your dad is right about me?”

Brian’s gaze lowered. “He's awful to you. You don't deserve it.” 

“I don't care what he thinks of me, and I know he's wrong anyway. You don't have to apologize for your dad. You're not responsible for anything he does.” 

“You deserve the best.” Brian insisted.

“Well, I've got it.” Roger replied easily.

Brian stared at him for a long moment. “Do you want to go out sometime?” 

Roger laughed. “What did I _just_ say about the flirting?”

“I'm sorry! I can't help it; you're so pretty.”

“I bet you say that to all the girls.” 

Brian smiled innocently. “No, just you.” 

Roger laughed again, and then groaned. “Stop being cute for a little bit, ok?” 

“What?” 

Roger squirmed. “You’re driving me insane, Brian. Cut it out.” 

Brian just squinted in confusion until he realized what Roger was saying, and smirked. “Ah.” 

“Don't give me that look!” 

“I didn't give you a look.” 

“You did! You made a face.”

Brian laughed. “This is just my face, Roger.”

“That's the problem.” Roger whined.

“You're so needy,” Brian teased, chuckling at Roger's scowl. “Relax, Rog. If it makes you feel better, I'm angry about your face as well.”

“That does help a bit. Thanks.” 

Brian smiled at Roger again, and he couldn't help but giggle at the look in his eyes. “Damn, if I'd known you liked hospital gowns this much-”

_“Brian!”_


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Looks like we're back to long chapters. 
> 
> They finally get to Freddie and John's house! I've never explicitly stated that it's the garden lodge, but I 100% picture it as the garden lodge.

Although the ride to Freddie and John’s was miserable, Brian had somehow been able to avoid throwing up in Roger’s car, so he considered it a win. John quietly slipped away to shower when they arrived, and it didn’t take long for Freddie to get Brian and Roger settled on the couch, insisting that they relax as much as they possibly could while he took care of everything.

“Brian, dear, can I get you some food?”

“I don't know, Fred. My stomach really doesn't feel well.” 

Freddie frowned. “Anything else, then? I could turn down the heat in here, if you want. It's bloody roasting.”

Brian shifted uncomfortably. “I, uh… I'm pretty cold, actually.” 

Roger frowned with concern and kissed his forehead, avoiding the stitches. “Hm, you're warm. You weren't a little bit ago. It's not bad, though, and the nurse said this might happen. I'll keep an eye on it. I'm not taking any chances with your piece of shit immune system.” 

Brian chuckled, but didn't say anything. 

“There must be something I can do for you,” Freddie insisted.

Brian thought for a minute. “Could I borrow one of your guitars?”

Freddie lit up. “Oh, darling, I can do better than that!” He ran out of the room, quickly returning with none other than the red special itself. 

Brian gaped at him. “How-”

“I told Miami to bring her back here!” Freddie grinned proudly and Brian stared, amazed. 

“I can't believe you even thought to do that.”

“Are you kidding? It was my first thought after ‘I sure hope Brian doesn't die’.” 

Brian laughed in surprise. “Thank you so much.” Freddie gently handed over the guitar and Brian held it, gazing at it like he hadn't seen it in weeks. He began gently playing a song Roger hadn't heard. It was beautiful, even without the guitar plugged in, but still it was obvious that Brian was struggling a little bit. Most people probably wouldn't have been able to tell, but Roger could. Brian struggling at guitar was not something Roger had seen before. He didn't know if it was a mental or physical issue, but either way he knew Brian would be wildly stressed about it. Brian suddenly stopped, looking a bit paler than he had before. 

“...Bri?” 

He closed his eyes for a moment. “Thinking about notes, it's making me dizzy.”

Roger smiled sympathetically. “It's alright. You don't have to play yet.”

Brian swallowed. “That’ll, uh… that won't stick, will it?” 

“No, of course not. All of this will pass. You haven't done anything permanent.”

He exhaled in relief and handed the guitar back to Freddie, who smiled gently and set it down on a stand across the room. He quickly walked back and looked Brian up and down.

“Brian?”

“Yes?”

“Take as long as you need to heal. I mean it. I don't care how long it is. Don't make yourself sick; don't rush.”

Brian bit his lip. “You were so excited about this tour...”

“I don't give a damn about the bloody tour if all of my boys aren't healthy and happy!” 

Brian fidgeted, looking at the floor. “But the fans-”

“-will understand, Bri, you know that.”

Brian took a deep breath. “Yeah. Thank you.”

Freddie leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. “Try some tea. I have peppermint. It'll settle your stomach.” 

“I’m not sure-”

Freddie’s eyes were warm, but firm. “I wasn't asking, dear. I'll be right back.” 

~~~~

Brian slept for most of the afternoon, and the other three tried to keep themselves busy in whatever ways that could until he woke up again. After they finished eating dinner, Brian practically being forced to do so, they all gathered in the living room to hang out before bed. Freddie grabbed the TV remote and started flipping through channels.

“Star Trek is on!” He beamed, and Brian chuckled at his excitement. “Brian, you can do that thing you love where you constantly interrupt the show to tell us things about space! You have permission to be as annoying as you want until you feel better.”

Brian rolled his eyes. “I thought you hated Star Trek.” 

“No, I hate that Deaky is in love with Uhura.”

John laughed. “That’s true.”

“Be honest with me, dear. Would you leave me for her?”

“Probably. You can have Kirk, though, if you want.”

“I don’t want Kirk! I’m not into cocky blondes, you know that.”

“Brian is!” Roger said, grinning, and Brian laughed. Roger squinted at the screen. “Why does everyone look weird?”

“They’re in a parallel universe, I think.” Brian answered.

“Interesting. Is there a parallel universe where I’m not hot?”

Brian laughed. “If the multiverse theory is correct, then there’s a universe with literally every possible version of you.”

“But are any of them ugly? You’re an astrophysicist. Tell me.”

“I’m starting to think you don’t know what astrophysics is.” 

Roger shrugged. “I assumed it’s pretty much exactly like Star Trek.”

“I’m going to let you keep thinking that.”

Freddie looked deep in thought. “Brian, is there a parallel universe where you’re in love with me?”

Brian stared at him for a second. “Are these hypothetical questions, or are you actually asking me to confirm the existence of multiple universes?”

“Whatever you’re comfortable with, dear.”

Brian laughed. “Alright. Well, if there’s alternate realities, they should cover every possible scenario.”

Freddie smirked. “Including one with a hideous Roger?”

“I mean… theoretically, yes,” Brian answered, and Roger scowled. 

John chuckled. “Wait, then could one of the realities _not_ have alternate realities?”

“I- What?”

“You know, like, in one of the universes, do multiple universes not exist?”

“...That’s a paradox.”

John rolled his eyes. “God, now it’s like we’re watching Doctor Who again.”

Brian laughed. “Look, these are pretty big concepts to consider while concussed.”

“That’s fair.” 

Roger gently massaged the back of Brian's neck. “Do you need anything?” 

Brian closed his eyes as he felt his muscles relaxing. “Oh my god, please keep doing that, Rog, it feels amazing.” 

Roger chuckled. “You've got it. Anything else?” 

Brian smiled. “I'm good.” 

“Good.” 

“Thank you.” 

“Oh, hush. Watch your nerd stuff.” 

Brian smiled softly and relaxed as Roger continued to massage him and the four of them watched the show until they eventually went up to their rooms to go to bed.

~~~~

Roger woke up to an uncomfortable heat radiating from the body next to him. He put a hand on Brian's forehead, wincing at how hot his skin was to the touch. Roger quickly walked to the guest bathroom and brought back a cool cloth, wiping the sweat off of his face. Brian blinked his eyes open, and Roger was struck by how sick he looked. He bit his lip, nervously peeling the blankets off of Brian as he protested weakly, and kept the damp cloth on his brow. 

“Can you drink some water? You're burning up.” 

Brian shook his head frantically. “Bucket-”

Roger grabbed it from beside the bed just in time for Brian to pitch forward and heave into it. Roger held his hair back and moved the cloth to his neck, cringing at the noise. He was relieved when it was over, mostly for Brian's sake. He looked terrible; panting and trembling as Roger pressed a kiss to his hair and pulled the bucket away from him.

“Are you ok for a minute? Can I take care of this?” He gestured to the bucket and Brian winced apologetically and nodded. 

Roger gently leaned Brian back against the headboard and walked to the restroom again, cleaning out the bucket and wetting another washcloth to bring back. Brian was shivering even more when he returned, and jumped slightly when Roger pressed the cool cloth to his skin. 

“Sorry, Brimi. I know you're cold. I have to do it, though. You have a fever.” 

Brian nodded. “Could I have that mouthwash now?”

Roger gently stroked his sweaty hair out of his face. “I'll grab it. Don't get up.” He walked to the bathroom for a third time, bringing back the mouthwash and a cup for him to spit into. Brian took them both gratefully, quickly rinsing out his mouth. Roger brought the cup back to the bathroom and tossed it in the sink. 

Brian looked more apologetic when he came back, eyes heavy with exhaustion and pain. “Thank you for all this.”

Roger smiled, proud of him that he hadn't said he was sorry. “You don't have to thank me. You take care of me when I'm sick. And wasted.”

Brian laughed weakly. “I feel like I'm wasted.”

“You look like it, too.”

“Ouch.”

Roger smiled. “What can I do?” 

Brian took a shaky breath. “You're doing plenty.” 

“You'll tell me if you need anything, though?”

Brian nodded, smiling softly. 

“We'll get you something for the fever when your stomach settles a bit, yeah?” 

Brian suddenly hissed in pain, bringing his hands to his head. “Dammit…”

Roger tensed. “What's wrong? I mean, obviously I know what's wrong, but is there anything I need to know about?”

Brian gave him a pained smile. “Nothing new, Rog, I'm fine.” 

Roger tsked. “You should try complaining. It's fun, and it might help. Release the stress, or something, I dunno.” 

Brian smiled in amusement. “You sure?” 

“Yeah, I want to hear it.”

“Alright. My head really, _really_ fucking hurts.”

“See? Didn't that feel good?”

Brian laughed. “A little.” 

Roger rubbed his arm. “I'm sorry about your head. We’ll get you something for the pain and the fever as soon as you think that you can hold it down.” 

Brian hummed, closing his eyes. “Love you.”

Roger chuckled. “Love you too, you nerd.” 

“Nerd isn't an insult, you know. It just means to be extremely passionate about something.”

“Shut up, nerd.”

Brian giggled. “And you don't have to apologize for my head hurting, Rog.”

Roger sighed. “I hate seeing you in pain. I wish I could fix it.” 

Brian leaned toward him more, keeping his eyes shut. “I know, but it's not your fault.” 

“And it's not yours either. You really don't have to keep thanking me for doing what any decent friend would do.”

Brian smirked. “You kiss all of your sick friends, then?”

“Just the hot ones.”

Brian snorted, finally opening his eyes again. “Wow.”

Roger smiled. “Do you want to go back to sleep?”

He nodded. “You should back up. You're sweating.” 

“So? You're one to talk!”

Brian chuckled. “I meant you're getting hot because you're so close to me. There's no reason for you to be uncomfortable.”

“I'm not.”

Brian smiled. “You're a terrible liar.” 

“But you're cold! I can't just leave you here shivering, and I can't give you any blankets.”

“Why not?”

“Because you're overheating!”

“Then surely I shouldn't have body warmth either?” 

Roger pouted. “I hate it when you're right.”

“I'll sweat out the fever, Rog. I'll be fine.” 

“Damn, I'm so much more of a bitch than you when I'm sick.”

Brian laughed. “No you're not.”

Roger faked a dramatic sigh. “I suppose I'll give you some space if you simply can't stand to be around me.” 

Brian rolled his eyes. “Ok, maybe you're a little bit of a bitch.”

Roger laughed as he backed a couple feet away from Brian, never taking his eyes off of him. Brian fell asleep quickly, barely reacting when Roger replaced the washcloth on his face. He was still shuddering and sweating profusely, and Roger hated watching. He closed his eyes, only opening them a while later when Brian's breathing became uneven. 

He was frowning in his sleep, whimpering quietly. Roger sighed. He'd wondered if this would happen, since Brian hadn't been able to take his medication yet. He still had nightmares sometimes, but nothing like he used to. It might not even be that; it could just as easily be the fever. Roger doubted the medication would be gone from his system after just one day of skipping it anyway. He genuinely didn't know if it would be better to wake him up or let him sleep… if he woke him up out of this nightmare, how could he know Brian wouldn't just fall into another one when he fell asleep again? It only took a few more minutes of this before Roger couldn't stand it anymore. He put a hand on Brian's face, suspecting the heat alone would be a strong enough sensation to wake him up. It was. 

Roger smiled comfortingly at him as his eyes flew open and he gasped in confusion. “Hey. I'm sorry, I didn't know if I should wake you or not.”

Brian tried to steady his breathing. “I’m glad you did.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Brian just tensed and shook his head. Roger leaned forward and pulled him into a hug, ignoring his own advice that Brian stay as cool as possible. Brian returned the embrace. “I'm really dizzy, Rog.”

“More than before?”

He nodded and Roger frowned. “Do you think you could try taking something?”

He could feel Brian tense. “Maybe…”

“You should have some water anyway. Are you alright if I run downstairs?”

Brian nodded. “Could you leave the bucket?” 

Roger helped him sit up, pulling his hair back just in case, and situated the bucket in front of him. “I'll be right back.”

He quickly ran down to the kitchen and grabbed what he needed. When he returned, Brian was staring into the bucket as if it contained the secrets to the universe. 

“Is there something interesting in there?” 

Brian looked up, not having realized he'd come back in. He just shrugged, too tired to come up with a witty response. 

Roger handed him a glass of water, but didn't give him the pills yet. “Try this first.” 

He took a tiny sip, quickly setting it down on the bedside table and gripping the bucket with both hands, but nothing happened. He exhaled slowly. “I think I can do it.”

Roger handed him his apnea medication and two ibuprofen, staying close just in case. Brian winced after swallowing them, but once again there was no reaction. Roger smiled. “That should help a lot.” 

Brian gave him a strained smile. “You can go back to sleep if you want.”

“But being awake is so much more fun.”

“You need rest, love.”

“Apologize and I'll tickle you!”

Brian snorted. “Tickle me and I'll throw up.”

“Alright, you win this round.”

Brian chuckled. “Do you think we need to be more creative with our terms of endearment?”

Roger laughed. “Sure, honey bean.” 

“What the hell is a honey bean?” 

“I don't like your tone, my little snuggle muffin.” 

Brian cringed. “Oh god, I take it back. Please stop.” 

Roger pouted. “Apple of my eye, sweet pea, baby, what's the matter?” 

“I've literally never regretted something more in my entire life.” 

Roger laughed. “This is why I use ‘love’. Just cuts right to the point, you know?” 

“Do you like it when I call you sweetheart?” 

Roger smiled. “Yes, _love_ , I like it a lot.” He grabbed the glass of water from the bedside table and nudged it into Brian's hand before continuing, “Drink a little more, if you can.”

Brian hesitantly brought the glass back to his lips and drank a bit more. Roger hummed approvingly.

“Keep drinking. You probably shouldn't try to eat until your fever breaks.”

Brian smiled. “You’d make a good nurse.”

Roger laughed. “I'll keep that in mind if I get tired of music.”

Brian's chuckle was cut off when a violent chill ran through his body, causing him to shake even more. Roger grabbed the water from him before it could slip out of his hand, quickly setting it down and wiping the sweat from Brian's face. He looked completely miserable. 

“Aw, Bri…”

Brian reached out and grabbed his arm, gasping sharply, and Roger could tell he was having another dizzy spell. He'd come to memorize the look in his eyes when it happened. So, he did what he always did and wrapped his arms around him. Brian sagged in his grip, completely drained of energy, and Roger became increasingly worried about how intensely he was trembling. Roger pulled back, regretting that he couldn't give more comfort while Brian was still so feverish. But, Brian's eyes were already half closed, so Roger just gently laid him down and stroked his hair until he fell asleep. 

Roger laid down on the other side of the bed, desperately trying to calm down his anxious thoughts until he fell asleep himself.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Turns out I was confused and there's only 8 chapters, not 9. Oops!
> 
> I don't even know what this chapter is, to be honest. Just a bunch of scenes crammed together. But, hey, maybe you'll like them!
> 
> Anyways, here's the conclusion(?) to a story I wrote for myself and never had any intention of sharing with other living souls until my beautiful friend @meddowstaylor (read her stuff. it's amazing) encouraged me to.
> 
> Thank you so so much for reading, seriously! :)
> 
> (I have a feeling I'm not done writing these boys, honestly, but you never know what'll happen!)

Roger was surprised by how well rested he felt when he woke up the next morning. He rolled over and put a hand on Brian's forehead, relieved to find it nice and cool. Thank God. Brian's eyelids fluttered at the touch, and slowly opened. 

He looked better. Not good, but definitely improved some. “Morning.”

Roger smiled. “Morning. How do you feel? Fever’s gone.”

“Better. I'm not cold, and I’m hungry, I think.”

Roger’s eyes brightened. “Good! Let's get you some food.” 

Brian slowly climbed out of the bed and walked to the bathroom, letting Roger hover over him. He relieved himself and brushed his teeth, and Roger followed his lead before gently guiding him downstairs. He was still nervous about the stairs, but Brian’s balance was improving. Roger stuck to his side just in case. 

The aroma of coffee grew stronger and stronger as they neared the living room, where Freddie and John were sitting in armchairs. Freddie smiled. “Good morning! Have a seat on the couch, both of you. I'll get you some breakfast.”

Roger plopped himself down next to Brian before calling after Freddie, “Something mild for him, Fred, he was sick last night.” 

“Mild and boring, coming right up.”

Brian chuckled. “Thanks, Freddie.” 

John handed Roger a coffee, which he gratefully accepted. “How did you sleep?”

Roger took a long sip before responding, “Pretty good. Better than this one.” He nodded toward Brian. “Fever broke, though, and I got some drugs in him.”

John smiled slightly. “Legal drugs, I hope?”

“You tell me, it was your medicine cabinet.”

Brian laughed. “I don't care what it was. It worked.”

Freddie waltzed back into the room with a plate of eggs for Roger and some toast for Brian. Roger pouted. “No bacon? You always make bacon!”

Freddie rolled his eyes. “Am I your maid?”

“Yes.”

Freddie hit him on the arm. “Let's not assault the poor man’s heightened senses any more than necessary.” 

Roger chewed thoughtfully. “Good point.” 

Freddie chuckled. “Anyways, Brian, dear, you don't need to look so scared. It's not going to bite you.”

Brian looked up from where he'd been staring at the two slices of toast in front of him. “I'm not sure about the peanut butter…”

“You need protein to build your strength. How else will you keep up with Roger in bed?”

Roger nearly spit out his coffee. “Freddie, what the fuck-”

“I'm kidding, I'm kidding. You need real food, though, Bri, not just bread. Try it?” 

“I will if you never say anything about Roger in bed ever again.” 

Freddie laughed. “You know I can't promise that.”

Brian shook his head, still blushing, but a tiny smile ghosted his face. “Thanks for breakfast.” 

Freddie smiled warmly at him. “You're welcome.” 

“Thanks for mine, too.” Roger added.

“You are _not_ welcome, you little twat.”

“Oi!” 

John smiled in amusement. “Do I need to separate you two?”

Freddie laughed. “Maybe, but me and you are taking Brian.”

Roger scoffed. “Like hell you are.”

Brian giggled. “Why don't you fight over me when I'm healthy?”

Freddie rolled his eyes. “Because you're a stubborn little shit when you’re healthy. Hush and eat your toast.”

He hesitantly brought one of the slices to his mouth, taking a bite before he could talk himself out of it. He forced himself to swallow, grimacing.

“Well, I can't say I'm feeling very good about my cooking skills.”

“Sorry, Fred. There's nothing wrong with the food, I'm just-”

Freddie waved him off. “I know, honey, I'm just teasing you.” 

Brian took another bite, stomach rolling with nausea, and was barely able to keep it down. He squeezed his eyes shut, focusing all of his attention on not puking on the carpet. Freddie took the plate from him, replacing it with another cup of peppermint tea. “Maybe this first.” 

Brian nodded gratefully and started working on the tea while Roger finished off his coffee and eggs. John was absentmindedly flipping through the newspaper and Freddie settled back down in his armchair. 

John suddenly stopped in his tracks, glancing over at the others. “Brian?”

Brian looked up. “Yeah?”

“Have you talked to your parents?” 

Brian visibly tensed. “...Not since the hospital. Why?”

“You might want to.” Brian felt anxiety bubbling up in his stomach, almost not wanting to know what John was referring to. John cleared his throat and read aloud from the paper, “ _Queen’s Brian May in critical condition after tragic onstage accident”._

Brian groaned, laying his head back. “Oh dear God.” 

Roger’s face flushed with anger. “What the hell?!”

Brian chewed his lip nervously. “Could I borrow the-”

Freddie didn't let him finish. “Let me call them. I'll straighten everything out. You finish your tea.” Freddie left before he could protest.

John sighed. “Someone must have seen you at the hospital. Or the venue, even. How else would they know it happened onstage?”

Roger pushed his anger down when he noticed how stressed Brian looked, and grabbed his hand. “It's alright, Bri, we'll take care of it. Don't worry.” 

Brian smiled anxiously. It didn't take Freddie long to come back in, and Brian looked at him expectantly.

“Your parents are fine. I told them everything they need to know. Called Miami, too. One of us will make a statement, alright? You don't have to worry about that.”

Brian smiled, already a bit more relaxed just knowing that his parents were ok, but Roger was apparently back to being pissed off. “I swear I'm going to kill someone.” 

John smirked. “Anyone in particular? Or are you taking suggestions?”

Roger laughed. “I'm open to anything.”

“How's your tea coming, Bri?” Freddie asked, trying to change the subject. 

“Nearly done.” 

Freddie smiled. “Good, here.” Freddie handed the plate back to him and he hesitantly took it, eating slowly for a few minutes before speaking.

“So, when can we start rehearsing again?” 

Roger groaned. “What part of ‘no strenuous activity’ do you not understand?”

Freddie grinned. “Lay off him, Rog. It's not like you two can actually go two full weeks without _strenuous_ _activity_.”

Roger shook his head. “Fred, I am not opposed to kicking you in the jewels.”

“Do it. I dare you.” 

Roger rolled his eyes. “And you're one to talk! I bet you can't last two days.”

Freddie gasped. “Deaky, are you going to let him speak to me like that?”

John shrugged. “Sure. I kind of want to see how this plays out. Besides, he's not wrong.”

“God, your sadistic bitchiness is such a turn on.”

“Um,” Brian cut in, “Not that I'm not enjoying this lovely conversation or anything, but I've finished my toast.” 

Freddie lit up. “Good! Well done. Would you like some more tea?”

“Do I have a choice?”

Freddie hummed approvingly. “Smart man. I'll be right back.” He got up to walk into the kitchen and John stood and quietly followed him. 

Roger gazed at Brian. “You know what I think?” 

Brian smiled at him. “What do you think?” 

“Your life is too hard.” 

Brian laughed. “Is that right?”

“Yes. You deal with way too much shit, and, to compensate, God made you unbearably sexy.”

Brian giggled, cheeks flushing red. “You do know why my life isn't too hard, though.” 

Roger raised an eyebrow. “I do?” 

“Yeah, I think you do. I’ve got it good.” Brian looked into his eyes, deeply sincere, and it was Roger's turn to blush.

“If you make me cry I'm gonna be so pissed.”

Brian laughed. “That's what you get for calling me sexy!”

“You’re right. There's a special place in hell reserved for people like me. My sincerest apologies for innocently observing that my fiance is hot as fuck.” 

“Roger!”

“What?”

“Freddie and Deaky could walk back in at any time!”

“So? That’s their problem.”

Brian laughed. “This is their house.”

“Yeah? And?”

Brian rolled his eyes. “Can you help me to the lavs?”

‘You’re not sick again, are you?”

“No, just want to wash my hands.”

Roger helped him stand, sticking close to his side, but Brian didn’t start walking. “Do you need a minute?” Brian didn’t answer and Roger looked up at him worriedly, noting the strange expression on his face. “Brian?”

“I, uh, I think I'm…” Brian trailed off when his eyes slid shut and he started to crumple to the floor, but Roger caught him before he could. 

“Shit, shit, shit-” He gently laid him on the couch, swearing under his breath, and felt like his heart was going to burst out of his chest. He didn’t notice Freddie re-entering the room.

“What happened?!”

Roger turned around right as Deaky made his way in, mirroring Freddie’s concerned expression. Roger turned back to Brian, kneeling in front of the couch. “Remember those fainting spells the nurse mentioned?”

John let out a breath. “So he’s ok?”

“He’s fine. I now know what a heart attack feels like, but he’s fine.” Roger lightly tapped Brian’s cheek and his eyes blinked open right away. Roger smiled. “You’ve known me a million years, Brian, you have to stop swooning whenever you’re in my presence.”

Brian rubbed his eyes. “Did I pass out?”

“Very elegantly, like a Victorian lady.”

He chuckled groggily and sat up. “Well, at least it was elegant.”

Roger smiled softly. “Are you ok? You scared the shit out of me.”

“You said he was fine!” John protested. 

“Yeah, I said that so you wouldn’t freak out!”

Brian laughed softly. “Sorry for scaring you, but yes, I’m fine.”

“You need tea!” Freddie announced.

John rolled his eyes. “That’s your answer for everything.”

“Because it fixes every problem. Sick? Drink tea. Thirsty? Tea. Need an excuse to leave the room for a few minutes? Make some tea. Dry skin? Soak in tea.”

“Need to vanquish your enemies? Drown them.” Roger supplied. 

Freddie considered it. “That’s a bit wasteful. Maybe instead you could just use the boiling water and save the tea leaves for later?”

John leaned in toward Brian. “Do you think we should run while we still can?”

“We might have to fight our way out. Do you know any of Freddie’s weaknesses?”

“He has a soft spot for dark haired British bassists,” John offered.

“If only McCartney were here.” 

John laughed. “Alright, I was not expecting that. What about Roger's weaknesses, then?” 

Brian thought for a minute. “He’s quite easily distracted, honestly.” 

“Oi!” Roger objected. 

John lowered his voice. “I think we've been found out. Abort.” Brian snickered. 

Roger rolled his eyes and turned to Freddie. “What do we even see in them?” 

Freddie shrugged. “How about we ditch these losers and go get ourselves some drinks?”

“No offense, Fred, but you're really not my type.” 

Freddie scowled. “What, and you think my type is blonde women?” 

Before Roger could respond, John turned to Brian and asked, “Well, what do you think, Bri? Drinks?” 

“I thought you'd never ask!” Brian replied, smirking at Roger’s indignant sputtering in that followed. 

John chuckled. “Relax, Roger. Brian is so in love with you it's actually disgusting.” 

Brian laughed in surprise. “Deaky! You can't tell my crush that! It's embarrassing!” 

John stared at him blankly for a minute. “...The guy you're marrying, you mean? That crush?” 

“Yeah, I'm trying to play hard to get. Don't want to seem too eager.” 

Roger tried to keep a straight face. “I have to agree with him, Deak. That's pretty embarrassing. In light of new information, I don't think this is going to work out.”

Brian raised an eyebrow. “That's the second time you've said that in two days. Should I be worried?” 

“Nope. You're stuck with me forever, you sorry bastard.” Roger replied, scooting up next to him on the couch and throwing an arm around his shoulder. 

“And they say romance is dead!” 

Freddie stared at them for a minute. “I want to write a book about the conversations you two have, but no one would ever believe me.”

Brian smiled, closing his eyes for a moment against the sharp pain pounding against his temple. When he opened them again, Roger was frowning nervously at him, and Brian felt a twinge of guilt. “I wish you didn't have to worry so much.” 

Roger smiled sadly. “I wish you didn't have to hurt so much. Do you want to take something?” 

Brian winced as another burst of pain pulsed through his head. “Yeah. Thanks.” 

John turned to Brian once Roger had left the room to grab the medication. “Brian, his worrying isn't your fault.” 

Brian sighed. “I know. I just… he’s had to worry about me so many times, for so many different reasons.”

“Ok, but that's _really_ not your fault. You don't have to pretend to be ok if you're not.” 

Brian’s gaze lowered. “I'm not trying to pretend. I'm trying not to… I'm trying to stay light and happy so I don't…” 

“Spiral.” John finished for him, realization settling in his eyes.

Brian looked up, expression heavy with anxiety. “Being laid up for a couple weeks… I don't know what that'll do to me. And just… being in pain all the time reminds me too much of-” He cut himself off. “I hate complaining. It just feels like, wow, Brian is sick again, what else is new?” He admitted. 

Freddie frowned. “You know none of us think that.” 

“No, I know.” 

John gazed at Brian thoughtfully. “I think you underestimate how important you are to us. Plus, it's not like you're sick all the time. I mean, it's been more than any of us would like, but usually you're healthy. It's not a constant weight we have to deal with or anything like that. You're not burdening us. Besides, all of this is harder for you than it is for anyone else! Honestly, I feel guilty that bad things keep happening to you.” 

Brian furrowed his eyebrows. “Wait, why would _you_ feel guilty?” 

John smiled slightly. “Ah, now you're getting it.”

Some of the stress melted from his expression and he smiled. “Thank you for all that. I'm really not pretending; I'm just focusing on the good things, I suppose.” 

“That's why you won't spiral,” Freddie replied. “That, and the fact that you're going to let us take great care of you because we want to and you deserve it.” 

Brian sighed contentedly. “Thanks. I'm trying not to feel bad about it.” 

Freddie smiled. “Well, I'm proud of you for trying.” 

Roger burst back into the room, quickly walking over and sitting next to Brian with the bottle of ibuprofen he'd retrieved from upstairs. Before he could give it to him, Brian reached out and pulled him into a hug. Roger squeezed his arms around him, nuzzling his face into his shoulder. “Hey, are you ok?”

Brian pulled back and looked him deeply in the eyes, and then smiled. “I think I am, yeah. What about you?” 

Roger thought about it for a minute. “I think I am too.” 

Brian smiled again, kissing Roger on the forehead. “Good.” 

Roger looked a bit perplexed by all of their expressions, and squinted. “What the hell kind of conversation did you have while I was gone?” 

Freddie chuckled. “Nothing too exciting. Brian feels guilty for things that aren't his fault and we told him to shut the fuck up and get over himself.” 

Roger snorted. “Sounds about right.” He handed Brian the pills and he quickly swallowed them. “What are you feeling guilty for?” 

Brian shrugged. “Making you worry.” 

Roger sighed. “You're not making me do anything. Circumstances out of your control are making me worry, because I love you and I want you to be ok. Anyway, I have every right to worry about you. You worry about me all the damn time. If we traded places, would you think I should feel bad?”

“Of course not!”

“So you admit you have a double standard?”

Brian stared at Roger for a minute, at a loss for how to respond, and then snuggled up to him and laid his head on his shoulder. “You’re very wise.” 

“Good, then you have no choice but to believe me!” 

Brian smiled. “I do believe you. All of you. And I love you too, Rog.” 

“I know. Deaky told me.” 

Brian laughed. “Alright, one more thing.”

Roger played with his hair. “Mm hm?”

“In the spirit of full transparency, I'm pretty nervous about being cooped up for two weeks,” He admitted.

Roger smiled softly. “I figured that, but thank you for telling me. I'm going to keep you company, I promise. There's nowhere else I'd be right now anyway; even if you wanted me to leave.”

Brian kept his head on Roger's shoulder, closing his eyes. “I don't want you to leave.” 

Roger smiled. “Then it's settled. I wish you didn't have to be stuck in here too, but maybe it won't be so bad.” 

Brian tensed a bit, and Roger frowned. “Bri?”

“You know how the nurse said I might have irritability or anxiety?” he replied, and Roger looked a bit confused. 

“Did I do something irritating?” 

Brian laughed softly. “No. I'm feeling quite anxious, though.” He kept his eyes closed and started fidgeting with his hands.

Roger nodded in understanding. “Maybe a warm bath would help?” 

“Well, a cold bath certainly wouldn't.”

Roger laughed. “Come on, I bet it’ll feel good. Calming. Besides, you'll need to wash eventually and you sure as hell aren't taking a shower by yourself yet.”

“He's probably right,” Freddie added. “I have the most wonderful soaps, Bri, you'll be more relaxed than you've ever been in your life. Free aromatherapy.” 

John chuckled. “It's true. He has amazing soaps.”

Brian smiled, opening his eyes again. “I'm pretty sure I'll fall asleep in there.” Delilah jumped on his lap, purring as Brian started to pet her.

“Look, darling, she knows you need cuddles! What a good girl!”

Brian hummed thoughtfully. “Maybe a bath could be good.”

“You never did get to the loo to wash your hands,” Roger reminded him. “Had to collapse like a drama queen instead.” 

“Well, yes, you know how I love the drama,” Brian replied.

Roger smiled. “Try not to swoon over me this time. I'm not opposed to carrying you bridal style and that would just be weird for everybody.” 

“There's nothing you can do to stop me taking photos of that.” Freddie said, grinning. “Also, do be careful, dear, will you? Try not to fall asleep until you're done; there will be no drowning in my tub. House rules.” 

“Are there any other rules we should know about?” 

“That's the only one, though I suspect Deaky here will soon be adding plenty more.” 

Brian laughed. “Noted.”

John rolled his eyes. “I just have one, too. Don't annoy me.” 

Roger turned to Brian. “We might need to leave.”

“Not before I get the good soap!”

Roger laughed. “Let's go, then.” 

Freddie got a wicked glint in his eye. “Remember, boys, it's always a good idea to conserve water!”

Brian paused the belly rub he’d been giving the cat and stared at Freddie incredulously. “Fred, I mean this with the utmost love and respect, but what the hell is wrong with you?” 

Freddie turned to John. “Did that violate your rule?”

John smiled slightly. “It's a reasonable question…”

Freddie gasped. “How could you say such things in front of our daughter?!” 

“I refuse to acknowledge Roger as my daughter.” John replied immediately. 

Freddie laughed. “I meant Delilah.” 

John looked genuinely surprised. “You know what, that makes more sense.” 

“Deaky, do you find getting kicked in the shins to be annoying?” Brian asked. 

“I'd say so, yes. Why?”

Brian grinned. He looked at the three of them and sank back into the couch, finally starting to truly relax. “I think Roger is about to break your rule.”


End file.
